Class j^2^3JJl?- Copyright N^ COHfRIGHT DEPOSirr. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY STUDIES IN ENGLISH AND COMPARATIVE LITERATURE THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS COLUMBIA UNIYERSITY PRESS SALES AGENTS New York LEMCKE & BUECHNER 30-32 East 20th Street London HUMPHREY MILFORD Amen Corner, E.G. Shanghai EDWARD EVANS & SONS, Ltd. 30 North Szechuen Road A STUDY OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS WeITTEN by J. M., GENT, 1600 BY JOHN HENRY HOBART LYON, Ph.D., Litt.D. il5eto gorfe COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS 1919 All rights reserved ^^^^^ Copyright, 1919 By Colxtmbia University Pbess Printed from type, December, 1919 FEB 12 1320 Printed by The Plimpton Press, Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. :i.A5r>1885 IN MEMORIAM MY MOTHER AND MY FATHER This Monograph has been approved by the Department of English and Comparative Literature in Columbia University as a contribidion to knowledge worthy of publication. A. H. THORNDIKE, Executive Officer PREFACE The World War must be held accountable for this study of a long, rambling Elizabethan manuscript. I had planned for some time to investigate the life and work, so full of problems, of John Marston, and in this way I had come to The Newe Metamorphosis which had been associated with the dramatist's name for over a century. The globe- embracing designs of Germany necessarily put a stop to further research concerning Marston, for communication wuth England was uncertain, and the British libraries did not welcome visitors during those anxious days of grim de- termination. Indeed, one felt it an impertinence to intrude on a stage set for so sombre a tragedy. But since the various books of The Newe Metamorphosis could be obtained at long intervals, it seemed that a study of this manuscript might prove of some value. Its many closely- written pages, indeed, might hold something of fresh interest concerning those "spacious days" of Shakspere. In this, I have been mistaken. My work, consequently, has resolved itself mainly into a consideration of authorship. I have tried to keep before me in the following pages the fact that a manuscript, not easily accessible, is of the chief concern to those interested in a limited study of this character. Quotations are given frequently and at length, and the final chapter is devoted to selections. In doing this I owe the author of The Newe Metamorphosis an apology, because he cannot be adequately judged by a few lines arbitrarily taken from his nearly one thousand pages. He is at his best as a very leisurely teller of stories. I hope at some time in the X PREFACE future to show this. I have felt there is no need of a bibli- ography, since the authorities to whom reference is made are few, and indebtedness to them has been acknowledged in the text. The spelling and scanty punctuation of the manuscript have been kept; there has been no effort made to duplicate the script, for many of the individual letters are formed differently from the modern practice. I appreciate that I owe thanks to many friends who have encouraged me in my work. I am especially indebted to Professor Clyde B. Cooper of Armour Institute who drew my attention to Marston, and to Professor John Matthews Manly, Professor Albert H. Tolman, and Professor Charles R. Baskerville of the University of Chicago, who strengthened me by their broad scholarship and friendly sympathy in a half -formed desire to pursue my studies. Professor George P. Krapp and Professor Harry M. Ayres, both of Columbia University, have been of much assistance to me; they have generously given valuable suggestions and constructive criticism. I am conscious of obligations to Professor Ashley H. Thorndike beyond my power to express. The inspira- tion of his scholarship and the stimulus of his keen mind have been gladly acknowledged by all those who have had the advantage of his direction. I feel, however, even more grateful to him because of the ready sympathy and fresh courage he gives to those who come to him looking for assistance. Columbia University, February, 1919. CONTENTS CHAPTER I The Manuscript 1 The title-pages, 1. — Importance of the manuscript, 1. — Plan of chapters, 1. — Description of the manuscript, 2. — The autobiographical digressions, 3. — The date of the poem, 5. — The arguments, 7. — Patrons of the work, 16. — The Prologue, 17. — The author's mistress, 18. — The versifica- tion, 19. — J.M.'s use of satire, 23. — The Newe Metamor- phosis essentially a collection of stories, 27. — Reflection of the popular taste, 28. — J. M. and Ovid, 28. — Use of fab- liaux, 35. — Debt to Chaucer and to fabliaux, 36. — Influ- ence of Spenser, 39. — Stories of various types, 40. — The authorities referred to, 41. — The plan of the work, 45. — The original frame, 46. — A frame within a frame, 51. — The in- vention or adaptation of new framework, 52. — A change in tone and plan in the last three books, 57. — Summary of /. M's plan of work, 60. — References to contemporaries, 60. — Allusions to the stage, 63. — Conclusion, 64. CHAPTER II Critical History of the Manuscript 65 The critical history of the manuscript, 65. — Francis Godolphin Waldron, 65. — Joseph Haslewood, 65. — The British Museum, 66. — Halliwell-Phillipps, 67. — The Reverend Alexander Grosart, 67. — A. H. Bullen, 68. — Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith, 68. CHAPTER III J. M. gent 70 The a,uthor of The Newe Metamorphosis did not plan to conceal his identity, 70. — Autobiographical references, 72. — His service as a soldier in Spain, Ireland, and Flanders, 72. — Strong religious convictions and sympathy for the so- called Puritans, 83. — Friendship for Essex, 87. — Familiarity Xll CONTENTS with country life and sports, 88. — Intimate knowledge of trees and flowers, 94. — Marked tendency to explain the material uses of objects mentioned, 97. — Varied knowledge displayed whenever it might add to the author's assumption of authority, 102. — Reference to Cambridge, 103. — Former literary work, 103. — Respect shown to parents, 103. — His home, 104. — His style, 105. — Conclusion, 105. CHAPTER IV The Author of The Newe Metamorphosis 107 The conclusions arrived at in the preceding chapter an aid in identifying J. M. gent., 107. — The literary activity of the period, 107. — Assistance in this problem given by contem- poraries, 108. ^ — The four names mentioned by Waldron, 108. — John Mason, 109. — James Martin, 109. — John Marston of importance in spite of Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith's assertion that he could not be the author, 110. — Value of Marston's work. 111. — The Newe Metamorphosis mi'st show the faults and excellencies of Marston if it is his work, 113. — Conclusions of Chapter III applied to Marston, 114. — His right to term himself "gentleman," 114. — His name not French, 115. — No proof that be was a soldier, 115. — Not a man of religious convictions or one who had sympathy for the Puritans, 117. — No love for country life or for country piu-suits, 118. — Consideration of other evi- dence, 118. — The question of style, 119. — Conclusion, 120. CHAPTER V The Author of The Newe Metamorphosis {Continued). — Jervase Markham 122 Markham's ancestry, 122. — His birth, 124. — Francis Mark- ham, 124. — Jervase Mai'kham's versatihty, 125. — Per- sonality, 126. — Poetical works, 127. — Dramatic productions, 129. — Industry and popularity, 129. — The conclusions of Chapter III, 130. — The initials J. M. and Markham, 131. — The title "gent," 132. — His "Frenche" name, 133. — Markham, a soldier, 134. — Religious devotion, 137. — The intermingling of coarse jest and stern morality, 139. — Markham and Essex, 139. — Markham's knowledge of the country, 140. — Use of authorities, 141. — Reference to CONTENTS xiii Cambridge, 143. — Former work as a poet, 143. — Devotion to his father, 145. — His home, 146. — His style, 146. — The conclusions of Chapter III point to Markham, 148. — The fact that both /. M. and Markham arraign plagiarism offers additional proof, 149. — Markham's autograph letter and the manuscript, 150. — Hatred of Spain, 151. — Arraign- ment of the Papacy and its followers, 152. — References to the drama, 153. — Lack of allusions to contemporaries, 153. — Reasons for not publishing the manuscript, 155. — Con- clusion, 158. CHAPTER VI Selections from The Newe Metamorphosis 159 Index 219 OUTLINE OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Volume I. Part I ADDITIONAL MANUSCRIPT 14,824 Fos. 1-3. — The two title-pages and the arguments for the first six books of Vol. I.* Fos. 4-4 verso, — Cupid and Momus contend for the honor of being patron to the poet. The quarrel is settled by Cupid becoming patron of the parts concerning love and pleasure; Momus of the satire. ^ The author addresses his book. He dedicates it to the two gods. Fos. 6-6. — The Prologue.^ The author speaks of the nature of his work and asks the aid of gods and Matilda. BOOK I Fos. 7-9. — The gods seek adventure in Fayrie (England). At Mercury's suggestion lots are drawn for a king. Cupid is chosen and deposed by Mars and the other gods. Mercury is driven into exile to Rome because of his plan. Bacchus becomes king of the adventure, and Cupid is sent to Fayrie Land to announce the coming of the gods disguised as Egypt's king and his train. The inhabitants love the strangers. Saturn alone remains in Olympus. (Ehzabeth, as Gloriana, is praised, fol. 8.) Fos. 9 verso-lO. — Cupid inflames with love both mortals and gods. Jove woos Salya, who orders him to seek her as a baboon or monkey. Apollo takes by trickery Jove's place. Salya is changed to a monkey by the deceived lover. 1 Cf. Chap. I, pp. 1 ff. 2 cf. Chap. I, p. 16. 3 Cf. Chap. VI, pp. 159 f. XV xvi OUTLINE OF Fos. 10-verso 11. — Bacchus gives a feast. He ravishes Clavia while she is intoxicated. (Digression on lust and drink.) Fos. 11-12. — Venus becomes angry at faithless Mars. She leaves the revel. She is caught in a fisherman's net and kept a prisoner. The gods seek her, and Bacchus becomes reconciled with Cupid and Mercury. (Satire on dissemblers, fos. 11 verso- 12.) Fos. 12-12 verso. — Cupid turns an evil nun to a smoking altar and her lover, a monk, to the fire on it. Fos. 12 verso-13 verso. — Mercury loves and betrays Sabella, who later becomes the mistress of Bacchus. Fos. 13 verso-15 verso. — Jove is angry at jealous Juno, Vulcan, and Mars. He woos Venus in the fisherman's cave in the guise of a sparrow. Mars discovers them. He changes the fisherman to a kingfisher. Fol. 15 verso. — Bacchus discovers Sabella had been loved first by Mercury. He changes her to a tamarisk tree and her husband, a sodomite, to an elder tree. BOOK II Fos. 16-19. — Jove sends for Mercury in order to discover erring mortals. Alarpha lived in Fayrie Land. She plots with her lovers to kill her father. Two lovers fight for her and are changed, one to a hound, the other to a mastiff. She becomes a hare. (Attack on love, fos. 17 verso ff.) Fos. 19-21 verso. — Jove goes to "Bernia Lande" (Ireland). He finds the kerns practicing all kinds of unnatural vice and their king living with a bitch by whom he has had a cliild. Jove sinks the king's city into an abyss, changes the child to a dog, and the inhabitants into wolves which can take man's shape. (Many incidental attacks on the savage state of Ireland.) Fos. 21 verso-27 verso. — Apollo, disguised, woos Clavia, who had been ruined by Bacchus. (Cf. Book I, fos. 10 verso fif.) THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS xvii She tells the god of a greedy shepherd, Vulpex, whose dowerless daughter, after having been seduced, had married a gull. Apollo woos her as a shepherd. To escape a mob, led by her mother, he carries her to Connaught by means of a flying horse. She gains Connaught by a trick of having the sun remain rhotionless and founds Galway. (Many references to Ireland, and digressions on vice, rash promises, etc.) BOOK III Fos. 28-29. — Jove is angered at Apollo, because he had kept his chariot in the sky for three days in order to allow Clavia to win a kingdom. This had prevented Jove from visiting at night his new love Helinore. Fos. 29-29 verso. — Mars and the other gods plot against the absent Jove; they resent the rule of Cupid, who sends Mercury to get assistance from Jove. Fos. 29 verso-36 verso. — Mercury, being requested, tells Jove and Hehnore two stories: one of Mahsco, who lusted for his own daughter and, after he polluted her, cut off her hands and pulled out her tongue (fos. 29 verso-33 verso); the second, of a maiden loved by Apollo, for whom he had changed her flocks into sheep with silver fleece. Their child, Chryses, married the son of Clavia from Connaught. They became the parents of Hero. Jove, angry at Apollo, sends a violent storm and drowns Chryses and her husband returning to Connaught. (Digressions concerning hypocrites and the birth of lust.) BOOK IV Fol. 37. — Jupiter pays no attention to Cupid's peril; conse- quently, the love god, in defense, shoots liis arrows at his enemies. Fos. 37-37 verso. — Mars, a victim of Cupid, loves the n5miph, Langia. After various metamorphoses, he wins her in the guise of a fish. Fos. 38-41 verso. — Bacchus, the next victim, meets an old bawd. xvm OUTLINE OF She tells him of Puten (tobacco), formerly loved by Mercury. (Digression on tobacco, fos. 39-40.) Bacchus turns her girls to spiders and the old bawd to a top which boys play with. (Digression on virtue and prostitutes, fos. 41-41 verso.) Fos. 42-43. — Bacchus loves Lyaeus. She refuses him. He turns her into the grapevine, sacred to him because of his love. (Digression on wine.) Fos. 43-47 verso. — Pluto is also inflamed with love by Cupid. Juno had discovered Jove's Helinore and turned her into a camel. Before this, she had been attacked by Vulcan. Pluto loved the paramour of the giant born of this attempted rape, and carried her to hell. The giant seeks aid from his father Vulcan, but because he steals a golden horseshoe, he loses his eyesight. He curses Vulcan and Venus, and is made sport of by hell. BOOK V Fos. 48-49. — The nine daughters of the Rhine challenge the Muses to a contest in song. An old man with a dishonest advocate is chosen as judge. (Digression on bribery and lawyers.) Fos. 49-54. — Three of the daughters of the Rhine tell of Amalina, daughter of Venus and Vulcan's helper. She is loved by Neptune. He allows her to taste the pleasures of both sexes. Neptune later loves the nymph, Thames. He takes her to his palace — (digression in which the palace is described, fos. 50 verso ff.) — where she submits to Amalina, the man- maid. The latter is consigned to hell; the former becomes the river Thames, later wooed by a giant, Pons, who rapes her. He is turned to London Bridge. (Digression on the Thames, fol. 54.) Fos. 54-56 verso. — The fourth and fifth sisters tell of the Thames and of London. Fos. 56 verso-63 verso. — The remaining -sisters speak of a feast given by the garden god. (Digression on flowers and herbs, fos. 57 verso ff.) His love, Clare, is killed by a boar and THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xix turned to a potato. The evil Capernus tries to rape the sleeping Ceres. He aims an arrow by mistake at Pan and is changed into a goat. BOOK VI Fos. 63-65 verso. — Melpomene, the first of the Muses to speak, tells of a fickle wanton, Taboretto. Fos. 65 verso-67 verso. — Clio speaks of the adventures of some pirates after peace was made with Spain, who were turned to sharks. Fos. 67 verso-69. — Euterpe tells of Sabina, who had entered a nunnery, but left it for the stews. She consulted a witch to procure a drug to kill her unborn child. (Digression on witches and prostitutes.) Fos. 69-71. — Thalia gives a history of inventions and of the progress of civilization. Fos. 71-73 verso. — Terpsichore relates how the merchant Pal- gradius is betrayed in his absence by his wife. On his return, he visits a marvelous palace; meets the devil as a negro succubus; and finally drives his wife to a life of shame. Fos. 73 verso-76. — Erato relates how Paroquita first married for money, then for love. She becomes nurse to the child of a duchess. When old and common, she panders to evil appe- tites. She makes the wife of the young ruler unfaithful by telling her the duke is sexually defective. Lucina changes the bawd to a parrot which tells secrets of its mistresses. (Digressions on the influence of money, on midwives, on bawds, etc.) Fos. 76 verso-81 verso. — Polymnia tells of witches coming from Ireland to Scotland; their attacks on James and the Puritans, and their league with the Romanists. Fos. 81-82. — Calliope speaks of the haughty daughter of a black- smith who refused Cupid, and, in consequence, was turned to a peacock. Fos. 82-83 verso. — Erania tells how the people in "Stroade in Kent" threw fish tails at Bacchus (he turned them to fish) XX OUTLINE OF and of those who eat fowl in Lent with the permission of the Pope. Fos. 83 verso-88 verso. — The judges take bribes from the daugliters of the Rhine. Jove arraigns them, praises true law, and changes the advocate to a wolf, his helper to a gnat, and the maidens to mermaids. (Digression on bribery, injustice, greed, etc.) Volume I. Part II ADDITIONAL MANUSCRIPT 14,825 BOOK VII Fos. 1-1 verso. — The arguments are given for the six books of Part II. 1 Fos. 2-9 verso. — Cupid, because Saturn favors Mars, makes the old god love a child of eight. (Digression on age and youth.) Her mother, to be relieved of birth pangs, had promised Minerva to keep her daughter unmarried. The girl spurns Saturn's advances when he seeks to ravish her whilst in bathing. Minerva changes her to an olive tree (fol. 3 verso). Eusham, the daughter of the river Avon, laughs at Saturn's disappoint- ment. He then rapes her. A child is born with one eye, to whom Saturn gives a pearl for the missing eye (fol. 4). One Eye, the son, marries Holland and has two sons, one Porcus, a miser, the other Costerus, consumed by jealousy. The former plots against his father, and by means of drink and drugs steals the eye of pearl. (Digression on drunkenness and undutiful sons.) He cannot sell the pearl, but in spite of his pleas, the king Mempricius seizes it (fol. 7). The son next turns farmer and then usurer. He leaves his ill-gotten wealth to churches and hospitals. (Digression on farming, ill-gotten wealth, etc.) Fos. 9 verso-16. — Mempricius, the king who had seized the 1 Cf. Chap. I, pp. 8 ff. THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxi pearl, was lustful. He tempts the virtuous Matilda and banishes her husband. She tries to escape, but is seized, and her husband is slain. She resists the king and his bawd, and in order to save herseK she jumps into a fire made to celebrate his birthday. Juno turns her to a salamander; the bawd to a cat. Fos. 16-18. — This king has as a mistress the youngest daughter of the bawd. She visits him by night and by mistake smears her face so that it is black. The king nearly slays her. She is turned to a tree; the king, full of lust, seeks the company of beasts, and is killed by wolves. Fos. 18-24 verso. — The author again speaks of Porcus, the miser son of One Eye; of a man of Brentwood who gelded himself to see if his wife were virtuous; and of a fat glutton who left his corpse to surgeons (fol. 19). A laborer tells of One Eye's second son, Costerus. He was consumed by jealousy. He forbids his wife to see any man. She deceives him with an old lover, disguised as a peddler (digression on the ease with which women deceive men); with the god Proteus, disguised as a lobster; with a Franciscan friar who visits her concealed in a trunk; and with Mercury who carries her to France and turns the husband to a milk-white bull in the forest of Calydon. Fos. 25-26. — Mercury becomes by this liaison the father of two children. To show his divinitj^, he unwilhngly gives the mother a staff for the son, May, which can transform one into whatever one desires. The mother is inadAcrtently changed into a quail. Fos. 26-27 verso. — May next transforms a fish thief into an otter and some painted ladies to glowworms. Fos. 27 verso-29 verso. — Anolfus at that time was emperor of Germany. (Digression on popes, drink, and alchemy.) Phrixius made him a drinking glass which would turn black if it contained poison. The goldsmiths, because of jealousy, summoned Ma}''. He changed Phrixius into an image. Fos. 29 verso-32. — May visits Britain, sees strange sights. xxii OUTLINE OF meets Merlin, and takes part in a cherry-stealing prank at Cambridge. Fos. 32 verso-35 verso. — May, returning to France, finds his sister a pehcan, because she had betrayed the secret that a child of Apollo and a Lady Drant was of both sexes. He changes his sister to a mulberry tree, her children to silkworms. The gods are angry at his presumption. His father Mercury transforms him to the sacred sycamore. Fos. 35 verso-40. — The scene returns to the court of Anolfus. Jack GuUion and his family, because of their drunkenness and impiety, are metamorphosed by Bacchus. (Digression on drink.) Xadleus, a magician, and others who are in prison are punished for their crimes. (Attacks on swearing, dice, and evil women.) BOOK IX Fos. 40 verso-49. — Arabianus, king of a land near that of the pygmies, falls in love with the emperor of Germany's daughter, whose picture he has seen. They are married, and he is killed in a single combat with the warring king of Egypt. Before the combat he had received an enchanted ring. His wife leaps into his funeral pyre and becomes the Phoenix. (Description of funeral rites.) Fos. 49-53. — The author defends women, giving many examples of when they are virtuous. Fos. 53-56 verso. — A friend betrays the absent husband, who, on his return, kills him. The husband confesses the murder to his wife, who brings him to execution. The wife is turned to the salmon with red flesh, because she had caused her husband's death, her lover to the pike, and her husband to the porpoise, both of which pursue her. BOOK X Fos. 57-59 verso. — Apollo, meeting the exiled Mercury, is aston- ished at his poverty. Apollo speaks of the golden age; Mer- cury replies with a description of the terrible vice now THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS XXUl prevalent throughout the world. Apollo inquires concerning Italy. Fos. 59 verso-76 verso. — Mercury tells of the wickedness of the popes and of the Roman CathoHc Church. (Detailed attack on the Papacy.) Fos. 76 verso-77. — Mercury speaks of two beautiful royal nymphs, Canta and Cahna. He loves the former. Fos. 77-90. — To pass the time, he next describes a gull who misused words and aped fine manners. Mercury, as a poor scholar, served the gull. He tells of some merry men, with shrewish wives, who were punished by Vulcan because they sang of Venus' deception. (Digressions on lack of learning and faults of women.) Fos. 90-91. — Apollo and Mercury woo and win the fair Canta and Calena, from whom all poets are sprung. (A hst of Enghsh poets.) Fos. 91-91 verso. — The Pope is the prince of poets because of liis marvelous inventions. (Further arraignment of the Church of Rome.) BOOK XI Fos. 92-93. — The author praises friendship. He gives a hst of faithful friends. He cautions the reader against trusting too hastily. Fos. 93-101. — OrgagUo and Rodrigo were friends for seven years. They married sisters. The latter had a daughter; the former, childless, spent his fortune. In Rodrigo's absence, Orgaglio plots against him and betrays his mfe. Rodrigo and his wife both die of grief. Orgaglio seizes their property, abuses their child — (digressions on evil executors) — and finally becomes a powerful justice. Cupid, because Jove had not aided him when he was attacked by Mars and his confederates, inspires Jove with love for the abused daughter. To win her, Jove seeks employment from Orgaglio, and after being abused and cheated, transforms him to a serpent. (Digression on the landscape of the vicinity.) XXIV OUTLINE OF Fos. 101-108 verso. — Cupid has no power over Juno. She seeks her husband, after putting on her bridal robes, in various places. (Digression describing Corycus' cave.) She finds Jupiter, and after recriminations they become reconciled. BOOK XII Fos. 109-112 verso. — Venus upbraids Cupid, because he has driven the gods from Olympus. She tells him women love a bold wooer. He twits her for her faithlessness, but brings Mars back to his mother. Fos. 112 verso-114. — Jove is still angry at Mars because of his rebeUion. He shoots his thunderbolt. War takes place; many mortals are killed, and heaven bursts in flames; hence our dog days. Jove calls a parhament and a star chamber. Cupid is banished for twelve years. Gloriana (Elizabeth) is to be made a goddess after death. The son of Roderiga and Jove, killed in the battle, is transformed into a nectarine. Fos. 114-116 verso. — Heaven is at peace, but famine and misery depopulate the earth. Merlin is consulted by a gentleman of note by means of a page. This page, by disguise, seeks to trick Merlin. He suffers both deaths prophesied. Merlin tells of Albion's princes, of the first Stuart, of the death of Prince Henry, and of the Princess Elizabeth's marriage. Fos. 116 verso-123. — Mars and many allies were wounded in the war of the gods. Venus, revengeful, looks for her cluld Amalcius in hell,^ the entrance of which is in Italy. Venus sees the first negro in company with the jDopes and Pluto. She gives the popes a three days' jubilee, at which Rome rejoices. Amalcius, to disguise himself, becomes a monk. He invents powder and guns. He loved a succubus of Lucifer. (Attacks on Roman Catholicism.) The Pope, aided by the Jesuits, stirs up the Spanish king to attack England. Pope Joan has an incubus, and their child is Guy Fawkes. The author attacks Spain and the papists. ^ His story is told in Book V. He is the man-maid who ruined Thames. THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS xxv Fos. 123-136 verso. — The story of the Armada, its preparations and expectations, is told. The fleet is shattered by a storm. The EngUsh fleet is described, and Drake is praised. The Enghsh strategy is explained, and a description is given of the army at Tilbury. (Leicester is attacked.) The defeat of the Armada is described. Pluto refuses to let the Spaniards come to hell for fear they might rape Proserpina. Jove turns them to cod and herrings which Spaniards still seek. The loss of Spain is pictured, and the queen is praised. (Captain Cox is referred to.) Fol. 136 verso. — The praise of the queen is interrupted by news of her death. Volume II ADDITIONAL MANUSCRIPT 14,826 BOOK I Fos. 2 verso-5 verso. — Jove mourns for Cupid, who has come to "Fayrie Lande" (England). The author describes England — ("Speede" is mentioned) — its riches, women, landscape, etc. He praises Gloriana (EUzabeth) and James. (Attacks on the parasite.) Fos, 5 verso-8. — Cupid tries to be a shepherd. Because of his cruel treatment, he causes the death by drowning of his landlord's son and the girl he loved. They are changed to carps. The father, before his own death, eats his son. (Digression on carps.) Fos, 8-9 verso. — Cupid next comes to a stream in which lads are in swimming. They attack him. He turns them into ducks, "Morecocks," and " stansticks." (Digression on fishing.) Fos, 9 verso-12. — He next serves a pander, Paterno, who lives by his wife's shame. (Digression on fashions, vice, etc.) Fos, 12-21. — Juno, aided by Occasio, still hates Cupid. The poet passes over many of the god's adventures. Cupid serves xxvi OUTLINE OF Plancus, a soldier, who loves Zidia. Plancus despairs of success. He turns poet and sends his page UmbreUia, who because she loved him had followed him disguised, to sing to his lady. Zidia loves the disguised page. She finally marries Plancus, who discovers the identity of his page and now woos her faded to a shadow. His wife and her lover plan to kill him. Cupid changes Plancus to an eagle, the wife to a tortoise, and the lover to a crane. Both the crane and the eagle hate the tortoise. (Digression concerning the death of Aeschylus, killed by an eagle dropping a tortoise on his head, thinking it was a rock, fol. 21.) BOOK II Fos. 21-25. — Two children, Dulcimel and Amoretta, are born in Arcadia. Their early life and love are described. Amoretta has another wooer from Fayrie, who tries in vain to win her by gifts and poems. She marries Dulcimel, but they are childless. Fos. 25-26 verso. — Dulcimel finds a weeping child (Cupid), whom he adopts and calls Eros. His kiss inflames his foster parents, to whom later a daughter is born. Cupid also gives them prosperity. (Digression on absurd fashions.) Fos. 26 verso-31 verso. — The king sends Dulcimel to the Turks. On his return, he frees an old knight from some ruffians, and is wooed by his evil wife. Diana turns her to a wanton "wagtail" (fol. 29 verso). In his absence, the king and Mars, the latter in various disguises, try to deceive Amo- retta. Cupid helps her to resist until her husband returns. Fos. 31 verso-36. — Mars remains at their reunion feast. Dul- cimel tells of liis adventures. He speaks of the career of the Enghsh pirate Ward, an unbeliever. Mars tells of Ehzabeth and of the Romanist plots against her, especially those in Ireland. Fos. 36-37 verso. — Mars blesses the virtuous couple. Eros weds their daughter. THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxvii BOOK III Fos. 38-46. — Jove, in order to restore Cupid to heaven, tells him to shoot only cold, blunt arrows; the result is that birth and marriages cease. (Digression on the pranks of Cupid.) The gods hold a council. They ask Jove to punish Cupid. He refuses and attacks them for their former plots. (Digression on the power of kings.) He finally recalls Cupid, and the world prospers. Cupid's new love, Melamorretta, is made queen of pure love; Venus of dalliance. Fos. 46-50. — Mars is still angry at Cupid. He woos an evil nun Adiana (attacks on Roman Catholicism) and fights with a groom, her lover. The latter, hit by a stone, becomes the source of a river. Adiana had been first wooed by Vulcan. Venus turns her to the myrtle. Fos. 51 verso-57. — The author continues his attacks on the " Cloystred-mates " by telUng of the Abbot Bolton who, to escape a flood, built a tower to which he retired with provisions and "sacred" books. (Attacks on superstition and the Papacy.) A search for a miller and his mistress, hiding in a cave, causes the abbot to think the flood has come. (Digres- sion on age marrying youth.) He cuts the ropes of the boat he had placed on top of the tower and is killed by the fall. BOOK IV Fos. 57 verso-64. — The author again speaks of the Thames. He tells of Neptune's love for her. They have a daughter Amwell who can change her form, and in this way she avoids wooers. (Digression on cowards.) Rodon, son of Proteus and a nun, is advised by his father to seize Amwell and hold her with no fear of her transformations. He wins her, and their child Beely weds the stream "Bardfeildian." Their elder son weds Molyno. After his death, she gives herseK to his brother. Neptune takes revenge on their secret love. Fos. 64 verso-65 verso. — A friend of the author tells him of how he was captured by the Spaniards; had served in a galley; xxviii OUTLINE OF was seized by the Turks and was taken to Egypt whence he escaped. He agrees to tell of what he has seen. Fos. 65 verso-72. — This friend tells three stories. He relates how an artisan marries the base daughter of the king. Be- cause of his wealth and a marvelous garden, he becomes proud. Apollo punishes him. The second story gives the reward of a poor but generous man who receives the disguised Apollo with true hospitality. The third gives the history of a mush- room squire who cuts down a grove sacred to Diana in order to gratify his whims. (Digressions on trees, upstarts, spend- thrifts, etc.) Fol. 72. — Another friend promises to tell some stories. BOOK V Fos. 72 verso-73 verso. — This visitor says that at cliildbirth one finds the most gossip. He introduces a midwife and her friends. Fos. 73 verso-76 verso. — The midwife tells of Lunglie, a black- smith, who robs an orchard and marries an old woman for money. (Digression on fooUsh widows.) Lunglie marries again. He keeps his grain from the starving poor until he is ruined by grain brought from Deimiark. He poisons himseK and is turned by Ceres into a rat. (Digression on suicide.) Fos. 76 verso-77. — All the women present agree to tell a story. Fos. 77-78. — Winifred relates how she was ravished by a gallant gentleman in satin. The midwife Hkes the story and calls on Demure, a chaste matron, for the next. Fos. 78 verso-80. — Another interrupts with a tale of how she was ravished on the way to a wedding. Her husband, a fiddler, was forced to play whilst she was assaulted. (Digres- sion on cuckolds.) Fos. 80-81 verso. — Demure tells of virtuous Piscator, drowned whilst fishing. His wife sees his hat on the water and dives for it. Cupid turns them to "Dop-cHcks." Fos. 81 verso-82 verso. — "The Lady in Bed" affirms the truth THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS xxix of tliis story. She tells of a lover, Pulex, who prayed to be her necklace, etc. He finally wants to be the flea on her dog, in order to have its freedom. He becomes the flea, and is yet found as a compainion of women. Fos. 82 verso-84 verso. — The next tells of Leda coming to Germany with her twins. Because a woman called her vile names for bearing twins, Jove makes the offender bring forth three hundred and sixty-five childxen at one birth. Her tomb and that of her children can be seen near The Hague in the neighborhood of the English camps. Fos. 84 verso-87. — The women wish to go to the army camps. The hostess persuades them to stay with her all night. Fos. 87-94 verso. — One tells of the marriage of Venus and Vulcan. Venus, in order to deceive Mars, sends her husband for the "Box of her Maidenhead." Vulcan, against her orders, opens it and a butterfly escapes. Venus declares her treasure is lost. Venus turns the pratthng wives to butterflies. BOOK VI Fos. 95-96. — The author has "CoUick." He visits the various springs to be cured. He likes Malvern. Fos. 96-98 verso. — He tells of the irreverent people near this place. He attacks the ignorant clergy, and speaks of one who mispronounces many words. (Digression on ilUterate clergy.) Fos. 98-101 verso. — He speaks of an old hag near Malvern who pretends to cure with one remedy. (Attacks on quack doc- tors.) He next tells of a maiden who was recompensed by her betrayer by a pretended remedy for all diseases. Later she becomes famous and is sought by the same man in order to remove a fishbone lodged in his throat. Aesculapius turns them both to horse-leeches. Fos. 101 verso-107. — The author leaves Malvern. He meets a man who has a charm to snare rabbits. He next tells of a mother with an ungrateful son, and an anecdote of a rich XXX OUTLINE OF man with four foolish sons. (Digression on filial love.) He relates how a father gave all his property to his ungrateful eldest son. Fos. 107-110 verso. — The author returns home. His friend Russius has lost his wife and sought her in all army camps and evil resorts. Russius, hungry and poor, breaks the branch of a tree, only to hear the voice of his wife. She tells him of her evil life and of her change to the "medler" tree because she was a gossip. The author wonders that Russius should tell his story. (Digression on false friends.) BOOK VII Fos. 111-114. — The author turns for material to France. He tells how a French gallant and his mistress kill the faithful wife who was childless and had prayed to Favonius to make her pregnant. Her prayers had been overheard, and she had been suspected of having a lover. (Digression on the abuse of love and of wine.) Fos. 114-118 verso. — A friend craves death because of unrequited love. The author tells him three tales, exemplifying abuses: First, of how an evil man tried to rape a girl in church and was turned to a baboon; second, of two fighters who follow a prostitute to a tavern — both are killed in a duel which follows ; third, of Swynburnus, the gambler, who kills himself when fortune proves fickle. (Digression on gambling.) Fos. 118 verso-123 verso. — He next tells his companion of the Cadiz expedition, of the number of the ships, the sacking of the town, the ransom, the burning of the Spanish ships, of the destruction of Faro, etc. A dove gives a good omen for the return voyage. Medina praises the English. Fos. 123 verso-127 verso. — Mendoza, a youth of Cadiz, wishes to marry. His mother objects. (Attacks on women.) He is killed by the English. The mother curses everything con- cerned in his death. She tells of the sufferings of a woman in bearing and bringing up a son. THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxxi BOOK VIII Fos. 128-129. — The author speaks again of Cadiz, Faro, and Lotha. Fos. 129-131. — The Shipmaster proposes that his companions tell stories. A prize is offered, and the first lot is drawn by the parson. (Digression on schools.) Fos. 131-133. — The Master tells of Parson Darcie, who got his dinner and wine for nothing, and who was finally hung. The Chaplain resents this story. Fos. 133-138. — The Chaplain speaks seriously of plots, "divine and profane," and of plantations in Virginia and Ireland. He praises the king. The Master calls him a Puritan, and the Captain settles the quarrel. Fos. 138-140 verso. — The Surgeon speaks next. His remark that all women are bad stirs up resentment. The company takes sides. The Surgeon tells of a gull with his hair dressed in horns (attack on fashions) who returns home to find his wife with a lover. He is paid for the injury to his honor with his own money. Fos. 140 verso-145 verso. — The Captain speaks of a virtuous wife who spurns Sansfer, a treacherous friend who hves on her husband's bounty. He tempts her with lines from Orlando Furioso, with a marvelous pictured casket, and with letters. She tells her husband. Sansfer confesses his love, and is tossed in a blanket. He becomes a buzzard. Fos. 145 verso-146 verso. — The Boatswain tells of Dorothea, who cruelly drove his brother to commit suicide. Venus turned him to a mistletoe and the girl to a cucumber, which, ripe, shoots out its seeds when touched. Venus also punishes Dorothea's brother and sister who attack her. Fos. 147-150 verso. — The Gunner's Mate relates how a nobleman plans to marry his eldest son Alphonsus to his neighbor's daughter. The son secretly ruins the girl, and then he travels until they are old enough to marry. He is lost and is made a galley slave by the Spaniards. He escapes and returns home xxxii OUTLINE OF in time for the wedding of his younger brother to liis betrothed. She recognizes him by a ring. The Pope gives her to the elder brother; her lands to the younger. Alphonsus dies, and the Pope gives the girl to his brother. Because of their lust, they are changed to parsnips. (Attacks on Spain and the Pope.) BOOK IX Fos. 151-152. — The author praises women, and gives Elizabeth as an example to all. (Satire on the Welsh.) Fos. 152-156. — A "Voluntarie Gent" tells how a merchant is forced to leave his wife of three years. She pretends grief. Corncaput, in order to escape the watch, takes refuge in her house which he finds open. The maid leads him to the bed of her mistress who was waiting for her lover. She does not discover her mistake because of the darkness. The next day she tries to have him arrested when he comes to her shop. He shows her a ring she had given to him and becomes her lover. Fos. 156-161 verso. — A "Young Gent," who came to Cadiz because of love, relates how a captain scorned Cupid. Cupid makes him love a friend's wife whom he woos in vain. He goes to the Spanish Main in search of gold. (Drake is referred to.) He returns to find his love in her coffin. He visits the tomb at night and finds her alive. She remains with him. The husband finally discovers the treachery. Fos. 162-166 verso. — The Steward makes sport of women. He jests about the Captain's conduct at Cadiz. He tells of a wanton wife who pubHcly shamed her husband. The Master declares this story is worse than those of Italy. The Steward replies with another indecent anecdote. Fos. 166 verso-168 verso. — The Gunner tells of a youth who finds that his love, his sister, and his mother are all wanton. Fos. 169-171. — The Master-Mate tells of the lust of MessaUna. Fos. 171-173. — The Cook relates how Nostam, who had skill in astronomy and medicine, betrayed a young wife in her hus- THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS xxxiii band's absence by pretending her unborn child was not per- fectly formed. His own wife later discovered he was diseased. He was turned to the Orchis. Fos. 173-177. — The "Apprentice" of London, who had run away from his master, tells of some merchants and their wives at the White Harte Inn at St. Albans. They made a wager in which the largest bed in England plays a part. Three lovers of their wives, who had followed them, deceived the merchants whilst drunk. The narrator demands the prize for the best story. Fos. 177-181 verso. — The Master urges the bashful "Drum" to continue the contest. He speaks of a clever doctor who wins a rich widow by pretending he is successful in his pro- fession. She first tries him in various ways. Her maid betrays her. After marriage she becomes haughty. (Digres- sions on false pride, quacks, and fashions.) The wife is poisoned by mistake by a drug intended for a rich baron who plotted to murder his wife. The baron is given the poison when ill by his unsuspecting wife. Fos. 181 verso-183. — The "Clarke of the Bande" affirms that men tempt women and then blame them if they listen. He tells of the son of Gaffer Huh-huh who made pretense to fashion. (Digression on flattery and evil times.) He takes his falcon to church, and is punished by Diana. Fos. 183-185. — • The Purser states he knows many stories. He intended first to teU of a youth married to a witch, who could make orchards bear in winter, etc. She makes the youth's father young. They deceive and kill the husband. The Purser then tells of an untruthful prentice (digression on lying, evil parents, courtiers, etc.) — who becomes a courtier. Fos. 185-188. — The Trumpet tells of the daughter of the nun Adiana and Mars.^ Proteus takes her to America. Neptune wins her from Proteus and removes her to Trinidad. (Descrip- tion of Trinidad.) Proteus, in revenge, by means of an 1 Cf. Vol. II, fos. 46 ff. xxxiv OUTLINE OF oyster kills her while she is bathing. Neptune takes vengeance on the oyster. Fos. 188-190 verso. — The Lieutenant first speaks of his youth and education. He tells of a lawyer who, when he became judge, decided a case against his former decision. (Attacks on lawyers.) Fos. 190 verso-192 verso. — The Ancient tells of a duke's daughter stolen by a pope. She is rescued by a forester. She marries and bears a child who is smothered by its nurse. (Attacks careless mothers.) The nurse substitutes her child. The duke discovers his daughter by a birthmark on her breast. The nurse is put to death by her son when she tells him of her deceit. Fos. 192 verso-194. — Land is sighted. The Master becomes the judge and gives the prize to the Cook. The Gunner laments the lack of time for his tale. BOOK X Fos. 194 verso-195. — The author lays aside his " sportful! Muse." Fos. 194-198 verso. — He speaks of the Romanist plots against Elizabeth. (Praises of Elizabeth and James.) He tells of the Bye Plot. Fos. 198 verso-207. — The history of the Gunpowder Plot is given in detail. Fos. 207-221. — The author tells of the fate of Fawkes and Garnet. A witch takes him to hell. (Digression on those in hell.) She tells him of the first pope and of Ecclesia Romana. He returns to earth. Fos. 221-233 verso. — He continues his attacks on the Roman Cathohcs, especially on the Jesuits. He closes by stating he has written this book against the "Cathohque Church." THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS xxxv BOOK XI Fos. 234-236. — The author tells of the drinking at Stratford-bowe during the "Greene-goose-fayre." The visitors all become drunk. (Attacks excess in drinking.) Bacchus comes to prevent the riot and fighting. (Digression on the friendships of drunkards.) Fos. 236-240 verso. — The author blames the justices for the taverns. They accept presents from the innkeepers and refuse to prosecute them for their lawlessness and the evils caused by drinking. All classes are now addicted to drinking. The custom of drinking healths is arraigned. Bacchus is angered at the drunkenness at the fair. He changes the crowd to geese; hence the name of the fair. Fos. 240-246. — The author declares gluttony is the younger brother of driiik. It is found in all classes and kills more than war. He tells of a young friar who ruins himself by giving a feast for his abbot. A neighbor, Brawl, who loves lawsuits and speaks in dialect, is one of the guests. The bankrupt friar becomes demented. (Digression on melan- choly.) Fos. 246-249. — The author speaks of envy and malice which attack one's good name, even that of the king. They are nourished by peace. The poet tells of a youth convicted for the lust of another. He himself has been slandered. (The Roman Cathohc Church is attacked.) BOOK XII Fos. 249 verso-252. — The author, commencing with Adam, gives a list of British kings. Fos. 252-256. — He laments the death of Prince Henry and lauds James. (Attack on the Roman Cathohc Church.) Fos. 254-255 verso. — He speaks of the marriage of the Princess Eliza and the attending festivities. He praises Eliza and her consort. He prays for the overthrow of Spain, Austria, and the Papacy. xxxvi OUTLINE OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Fos. 256-267. — The author tells of some of those who attended the wedding: a Captain Swan who dishked "Pigge" (digres- sion on fashions and tastes) ; a Monsieur Roe (fol. 257 verso) who sacrificed his timber to procure fine clothes; a fine lady who ruined her husband for buckles for her shoes (fol. 257, verso) ; a gull in fine clothes (fol. 258) ; and a pretended lady of fashion in a coach. (Digression on the golden mean, fol. 258 verso.) The author next tells of a miserly usurer who from the one gown of his dead wife wishes his tailor to make him many things (fol. 259 verso), and of a silk merchant who seeks to collect a debt from a tailor (fol. 260 ff.) whose wife betrayed him in the tailor's Hell.^ (Digressions on tailors, duns, fashions, etc.) The author then relates how Sir Had- land's^ son, a prodigal, seeks a livelihood. (Digressions on heraldry, flattery, the caprice of masters, and the nouveanx riches.) Fos. 267-268. — The author tells what vices he has attacked in his work. 1 The space beneath the tailor's work bench. 2 Cf. Vol. II, Book IV. ILe^^ ■ftle^mf^^^^ or- ,r '•y*«M/tM«< f$KJcri/^ "^fYttttn CP/^ :.^ f ij c a Hot: ii^ fz^a^^K' :vduM~.aa^^-'^ hi^^oeA^ 'I'llK l''lKS'l' 'I'lTLI^: r ".(,1, Photographs taken from a rotagraph copy of the manuscript. THE N^EWE METAM0EPH08IS CHAPTER I THE MANUSCRIPT The manuscript of The Newe Metamorphosis, which has been in the possession of the British Museum since 1844/ has attracted only cursory attention,^ although it has been mentioned and quoted several times since the early part of the nineteenth century by men interested in the Elizabethan period of English literature.^ The great length of the manu- script, together with the fact that it was written during the years of the culmination of Shakspere's work and contains many allusions to contemporary manners and history, makes this apparent neglect surprising. It is worthy of consideration and a somewhat detailed description. In addition, the identity of J. M. gent, offers an interesting problem. In spite of several conjectures, no serious effort has been made to determine this question, and, as a result, the authorship of The Newe Metamorphosis, which Haslewood nearly a century ago dogmatically assigned to John Marston, is still in doubt.^ In this chapter I shall discuss briefly both the type of work found in The Newe Metamorphosis and the plan of 1 In Vol. I, p. 1, on the flyleaf is written "purchased of Payne & Foss, 1844 (3 vols.)." 2 Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith in the Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. II, pp. 480-488, has given a very slight outline of the MS. 3 Cf. Chap. II. * Cf. Chap. II. 1 2 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS the poem; in the ensuing chapters I shall consider the problem of the identity of J. M. The Newe Metamorphosis, to call the poem by its first title, is contained in three volumes quarto, in the contem- porary vellum binding, in the Additional Manuscripts of the British Museum 14,824, 14,825, and 14,826, respectively. The text, and indeed the whole manuscript, is in a remark- ably good state of preservation. Where there is difficulty in deciphering a word it comes from the formation of the letters, corrections, blotted words, or lack of revision, and not because of fading ink or mutilated pages. The first volume has approximately eighty-eight leaves, the second, one hundred and thirty-six, and the third, two hundred and sixty-eight.^ The author has numbered the manuscript by the page in the upper left-hand corner; the Museum authorities have numbered the poem in pencil by leaf, recto and verso. Neither method in this case is satisfactory. The author, because of frequent additions, has added over a hundred pages which he has inserted ; the British Museum authorities, numbering by leaf, at times have not read the manuscript with necessary care and, in consequence, these insertions cause confusion. The author himself, almost invariably by a wotd in the generous margin, by a dotted line, or even by a hand drawn in ink,^ has made the sequence of the poem clear. The poem is written in a close, clear hand with remarkably few corrections considering its great length. As a rule there is an ample margin, and frequently in this there are 1 There are frequently pages inserted. These insertions may be one page or even extend to many. In Book II there are twenty-seven pages numbered 281 and sixteen numbered 361. The total number of pages is nine hundred and eighty-four. There are, as a rule, thirty to forty lines on each page. 2 Cf. Vol. II, fol. 212. THE MANUSCRIPT 3 many additional lines. It is of interest to note that the author has two distinct hands. The Italian hand he uses for personal names, for titles, for words and verses to which he wishes to lend importance, and for the homely proverbs for which he shows a market penchant; the other hand, in which we find the great bulk of the manuscript, is more difficult to decipher. It resembles in the formation of the letters manuscripts of the last decade of the sixteenth century.^ The poem has two title-pages, separated by the arguments for the first six books.^ There are two volumes,' each containing twelve books. One can see from the title- pages that the author's original plan was a poem of twelve books only. Undoubtedly pleasure in the work and an unrestrained loquaciousness, characteristic of many of his contemporaries, led him to continue his Iliad of legends to its present rambUng length. "Tomus Primus," which we also find crossed out on both title-pages, evidently should have remained. The first title-page tells us that the poem was written by J. M. gent. 1600. The second title-page also repeats this date. A little later, ^ written below the "Epistle dedi- catorie" to Momus and Cupid and having no connection with the poem itself, the author writes: My name is Frenche, to tell yo^ in a worde Yet came not in w**^ Conqueringe Williams sworde.^ Indeed, in many parts of his work J. M. becomes auto- biographical. He speaks of his home;^ of the woman 1 There are numerous notes in pencil in the margin of the manu- script made by Francis Godolphin Waldron. Cf. Chap. II. 2 The second title-page is on folio 3 recto. ' Vol. I, Add. MSS. 14,824 and 14,825; Vol. II, 14,826. * Fol. 4 verso. ^ The question of authorship is discussed in Chaps. Ill, IV, and V. 6 Vol. II, Book VII, fol. 115. 4 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS whom he loves/ whose aid he craves in this labor, and who has inspired him; of his travels in Ireland,^ Flanders,^ and Spain; ^ of his admiration for several of his contem- poraries; ^ and in a most intimate vein how he challenged a certain gull, a "Concealers son," to a duel, and the cow- ardly behavior of his antagonist. This last instance is such an excellent example of his digressive method that it deserves to be quoted. The poet has just been telling a story of a craven coun- cilor's son who hanged himself — "a coward ende"- — and was turned into the shape of the timid squirrel.^ Con- tinuing, he writes:' Whether 't's a gifte peculier yea or noe unto Concealors sonnes, I doe not knowe to be ranke Cowards, yet a great Clarks sonne that did not far from me once make his wonne ^ having much wrong'd me in my reputation and usd me in a base & scurvy fashion I cal'd him to account & did him blame for that he had traduced my good name I told him of it, in his raffe & pride my gaudy Gull, he stifly it deny'de I told him I would w*^ my sword maintaine the truth of what I charg'd him w*^ againe I threwe him downe my Glove & bad him take it that he had wrong'd me, good on him Fde make — it ^ Vol. I, Prologue, fol. 6, and in many other places. * Vol. I, Part I, fos. 21 verso ff. s Vol. II, fos. 84 verso ff. * Vol. II, fos. 119 ff. ^ An example of this is Vol. II, fol. 1. 6 Vol. II, fol. 59. 7 Vol. II, fos. 59 ff. * Home. Cf. Spenser, The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto VI, Stanza xxxix. The Second Title Page THE MANUSCRIPT 5 I nam'd the Tyme & Plaic for he was slacke and I his Glove from him received backe that he would answer me. This 'Chequer-man home to his Mumma presently then ran & crying told her he must fight the feild where he much feared that he should be kild. He was indeed a base, white-livired-slave a foole, an Asse & a caluminous Knave. The place appointed it was Callis sande his sworde & horse he sold both out of hande. And the indignant poet heaps his scorn upon his cowardly traducer. He then continues the story of love which he had interrupted. Both the title-pages give the date of the poem as 1600. It was undoubtedly commenced in that year and returned to at intervals until about 1615. Because the last book of the second volume mentioned the death of the Stuart heir, the lamented Prince Henry, and the marriage of the Princess Elizabeth,^ the poem has been assigned to the years 1600-1613.^ But even in the first volume we have mention of the death of Henry .^ J. M. writes: But H. untimely in his prime of yeares must thence dep(ar)te, & passe through funerall fyres iust at that tyme when greatest ioye's intended at bright Es nuptials, w'^'* all mirth portended then C. that Noble Prince shall nexte succeede for soe th' imortal powers have decreede that most illustrious Prince, Carl-Maximus the ioye, the life, the very soule of us. ^ Henry died Nov. 6, 1612; Elizabeth married the Elector Palatine, Feb. 14, 1612-13. 2 Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith, Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. II, p. 483. 3 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 116. 6 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS In this same book we are told of the defeat of the Spanish Armada and the tidings of the death of Ehzabeth — a variety of subjects, truly, and separated by many years. Several instances of this kind lead to the conclusion that the author made many insertions in the course of compo- sition. The frequent references to authors, and even to the pages referred to, further strengthen this assertion and also help in dating more accurately The Newe Aletamorphosis. Ralegh's History of the World,^ Purchas his Pilgrimage,^ and Milles' popular The Treasurie of Auncient and Moderne Times,^ all published in 1613 or later, are mentioned, the last most frequently and in both volumes. Consequently, it is safe to assert that the poem was not completed before 1614 or 1615. Even the different parts of the manuscript can be dated with some accuracy, for there are many scat- tered allusions to contemporary history, to the early Roman- ist plots against James,^ to the assassination of Henry of France, to the planting of colonies in Virginia and in Ireland,^ to give only a few examples. The reasons which deterred the author from publishing a work upon which he had spent so many years cannot be definitely determined. J. M., as the manuscript tells us, served in various campaigns, and he may have written The Newe Metamorphosis to furnish diversion to his com- panions or to relieve the weariness of camp life. But the Prologue, the many insertions, and the dedication, all seem to show conclusively that the manuscript was intended for publication and to gain the applause of his contem- 1 Entered in the Stationers' Register 15 April, 1611, but not pub- lished until 1614; Camden says the 29th of March. 2 First folio, 1613. 3 London, 1613-19. 2 vols. The Bodleian Catalogue gives the second volume as 1616. < Vol. II, fos. 198 verso ff. 6 Vol. II, fos. 134 ff. The plantation of Ulster took place 1607. THE MANUSCRIPT 7 poraries.^ He planned at first — as the title-pages make clear — to write only twelve books, and he undoubtedly would defer his search of an audience until he had finished his first volume, the last book of which has a reference to the death of Henry, the eldest son of the king.^ In the meantime, both his material and his plan demanded a second volume. When he wrote the "Finis" in 1615 or even later, the temper of his contemporaries had undergone a change, and The News Metamorphosis, as written at first,^ would necessarily have to be revised in many ways before its author could win the favor of the Stuart court. Additional reasons why J . M., even at the conclusion of the first volume, would hesitate to publish his work can be advanced after the identity of the author has been determined.^ The arguments for the first six books separate the two title-pages. These are repeated before the respective books with minor changes in spelling and wording. The same plan is followed for the six books of Part 11.^ In Volume II, however, the arguments are found not together at the beginning, but only separately, each before its re- spective book. At the end of Volume II the author, in conclusion, before he naively writes. My leave I here of Poetrie doe take for I have writte untill my hande doe ake Finis, again enumerates the sins of his contemporaries and of the world at large which, by means of tales or by direct attack, he has arraigned in The New Metamorphosis. As these concluding lines and the twenty-four arguments give an 1 Cf. Prologue, Chap. VI. ^ Henry died in 1612. 3 Prologue. ' Cf. Chap. V, pp. 155 ff. * The argument for Part II, Book V, is not given before the book. In the margin the argument of Book IV, crossed out, is repeated. 8 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS idea of the amazing variety and types of subjects which J. M. treats, I shall quote them in toto : Vol. I Lib: 1. Argument. The Gods dispos'd to mirthe did for their Plotte make choise of Fayery : Quarels for the Lotte of Goverment : Treason 'gainst Chastety : The Cloysters exercise cald venerie Venus ta'ne washinge by the Fisherman : Joves wronges he there expostulateth than. Lib. 2. Argumente. Rewarde of Luste: scorninge th' Love-Deitie: Foule sinnes are punished in Hyberie : Fooles caught w*^ gay lookes, & their fond rewarde: Fault-finders-faults, in punishment have shar'd : Loves most strange Labour : Hasty love repented rash vowes perform'd, their chastisement augmented. Lib. 3. Argument. The quarrell 'bout the Lotte devission makes amongst the Gods, the rest wi*^^ Mars pertakes: Lusts black conception, birth & progenie : Incest is punisht, & that worthely : Joves wrathfuU threats upon Apollos seede Scylumen, Chryses 't did to them succede Lib. 4. Argument. Love sends them packinge to their severall Loves : The Curtizans welcome Liber Pater proves : The vine f ounde out, with 's virtues manifold : Antaephors acts so desperate & bold ^ Men u'sd to Theft will kepe their hands in ure Hels scoffinge at him, he's forst to endure ^ This argument as prefaced to Book IV reads, "acts most desper- ately bold." ^t^Jviri ^»^ /fW4>fiH^^ /b>tl<3 />rOt?OV ',^4/^'i-A.3.p^.i-^;^- i^Vnn^Pi '*S}CCl [dddif^f^^j Folio from "The New^ Metamorphosis" THE MANUSCRIPT Lib. 5. Argument.^ The Pyren-Ladies, challenge th' Muses nyne to singe w*^ them, likewise a triple trine: Neptunes love to Tamisis greate is showne he takes her to him, keepes her as liis owne, description of her: Th' Banquet of th' Deities made by Pryapus: Capernus lecheries: Lib. 6. Argument Inconstancie describ'd: Theft punished: Whoredom & Murder, both on one stringe lead : Inventions many :^ Sodomy: Adulterie: Pride: Superstition: Black Necromancie: The Judge beinge bribed w*** a golden fee gave sentence wronge, for w'^*^ he 'scapt not free. Lib: 7. Argument.^ Withred-old-age, doates on Childe-infancie begettes two sonnes, Avarice & Jealousie all three described vively to the life: Lust kils the Husband to enjoye the wife: One trustinge Fortune-tellers is run wilde: By Mercurie he is of 's wife beguilde: Lib. 8. Argument. Womans presumptuous wish, her pride abated: Fish-stealers : Love-Nymphs: Empirie translated: RareGlasse: strange thinges: Secrets discoverers, punisht w*^ busie bodie Reformers : GuUions greate draughte: Xadleus iughng tricks: Murderers in prisson, love Dice, Drinke, Meri-trix. Lib. 9. Argument. Wars 'twixt Arabian & the Egyptian Kinge both lost their lives, their maimer buryinge : ^ This argument is not found before Book V. 2 "Many inventions," in the argument prefixed to Liber 6. 3 This commences Part II of Vol. I or Add. MS. 14,825. 10 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Arabians Queene, rare paterne of True-love: Of Womens praise, th' exceeds Men it doth prove: Adultery, Murder : Women monstrous Blabs No secrets t' women, 'specially if Drabbes. Lib. 10. Argument. The Popes greate power: their Legends, Histories: they keepe the Lawe, their severall Quahties: Rome is describ'd, part of th' Popes revenewes: Fantastick fashions : Blynd-Assinus ensewes : The Ram-pie-f easte : ApoUo, Mercurie two Faiery Nymphes, chose for societie. Lib. 11. Argum*: Of Friendship: TravaiUnge for uncertainties: Executors, their lewde deceipte & guise debasinge th' Heire, & making her turne Whoare: Saturnia's Jealousie deceiv'd evermore: Her curious searche: Corycus Cave describ'd her findinge Jove, contendinge, reconcil'd. Lib. 12. Argum*: Cupid & Venus parlie, she him chides: The Gods fall foule, the Parliament decydes the Controversie : Cupid is banished : Mischeif es that f oUowe : Merlyn prophesied Gunnes are invented : Th' Fleete Invincible saild back to Spaine, almost Invisible. Volume II. Add. MS. 14,826 ^ Tomus secundus Liber primus Argumente. England describ'd, th' happinesse in its Kinge: Love seekes a Service, sure a wondrous thinge : The crueltie of th' Tanner punished : Cupids ill happe is nexte desciphered : 1 The arguments in this volume are given only before the respec- tive books. THE MANUSCRIPT 11 Love conquers Conquerers: Men of best desertes are wrong'd by Women that have double hartes. Lib. 2 Argument.^ Arcadias life & pastorall hapinesse reproof e of Moderne tymes so great excesse : The dismall danger of immodest wives who chaste ones have, their treble happie hves : The Merchants curse, the Pyrats wickednesse RebeUions mischeife doth the next expresse. Lib. 3. Argument.^ Cupid doth quenche the heate of Paphian f yres : Mercury, th' Gods Spokes-man, humbly Jove desyres to recall Cupid: who with 's Love returnes: The pure chaste life of all your Cloystred Nunnes : The Pryor seekes t' prevent the Prophesy: Whiles th' Meale-mouth'd-Miller, was at 's venerie. Lib. 4. Argument.' A coy lasse woonne, after longe weary sute : of Lustf uU persons the prodigious f ruite : Presumption punisht by that very hande : that humble Chemmish caus'd aloft to stande: Diana's grove feld downe despightfully the wronge revenged by that Deitie. Lib. 5. Argument.* Avarice & Theft are duely punished : Loose huswives bragges of lewdnes 'sciphered: Womens affections to their husbands greate : Fonde wishers : Such as betters ill entreate : Nuptials of Venus & f als play set forth : Th' Tale-teller & her sister punisht both. 1 Fol. 21. This is written in the margin; the argument for Book I has been repeated and crossed out. ^ Vol. II, fol. 37 verso. 3 Vol. II, fol. 57. " Vol. II, fol. 72. 12 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Liber 6. Argument.^ Strange Fountaines vertues & their qualities: Illiterate Priests, their f oohsh ceremonies : Dumbe Dogges once barkinge, & their pronunciation: Th' abuse of learnd Physicians vocation: Children abusing Parents reprehended: Wives runninge from their Husbands are condemned : Lib. 7. Argument.^ Th' Incontinent doth the Suspected murther: Lust, Murther, Gaminge, doe their owne deaths further: Cales voyage is describ'd, their quick returne, EngUsh humanitie, they the Countrie burne: A Lady mourninge for th' losse of her Sonne slayne in the Conflict when to th' Gates they run. Liber 8.» Argument. Returninge home from Cales to passe the tyme, ech one must tell his tale in Prose or Ryme: About Plantations first they doe begin : Of th' Lottery: next of The Wittols sin: A Ladies chastety vively set out : A Lasses coynes punished sans doubt : &cy Liber 9. Argumente.* Coactive love unsounde : of MessaUne th' incontinence & boldnes most supine : Craf te overcatcht & taken Unaware : Th' Cockneis wantonnes, many in 't have share: Ambitious women: greate presumption: Lawyers Atheisticall dissimulation &c. &c. &c. 1 Vol. II, fol. 94 verso. 2 Vol. II, fol. 110 verso. ' Vol. II, fol. 128. * Vol. II, fol. 151. Folio buoM The Nkwk Metamorphosis" THE MANUSCRIPT 13 Liber 10. Argumente.^ Murder & Treason, Romes Religion : The Plotte describ'd of th' Powder Treason : The Tray tors punishment, their goeinge to Hell : Their change of office w"*^ became them well: The Jesuits vertue lively is set forth. Tyburne the Antidote : 'gainst Tyburs wroth. Liber IL Argument.^ Of drunkards here a storje large you see and eke of those that their Abettors be. Of Gluttony the next, excesse in Feastinge w""^ many after makes exceede in Fastinge. Contentious Knaves, next here must have a rooms Calimmious-viperous-tongues from Hell doe come. Liber 12. Metamorphosis. Argumente.^ The Catalogue of ancient Brittish Kinges: Prince Henries deathe: Elizas NuptialUnges : Some strange Mutations at the Princely Revels : Of Avarice the most unmanly evils : False-play under th' bourde nexte requires a roome: And Pride w"*^ heere doth for the last Dish come. ^The many vices of us derely loved in this discourse I freely have reproved nor for their greatnes doe I spare their vice for that's exemplar, & doth more entice I have not feared, their greate Masters frowne though he goe clothed in his scarlet gowne though thousand p[er]sons too he can comand better then he, I have not held my hande 1 Vol. II, fol. 194 verso. 2 Vol. II, fol. 234. 3 Vol. II, fol. 249 verso. * Vol. II, fos. 267 ff. This is the conclusion of the poem. 14 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS but have as boldly laid them to thy viewe as they doe them comit, fearles, yet true as Wantonnes, pride, bribery, buggerie falsehood, rape, hastie-love, sodomie bauderie, Curtezans-guise, superstition Witchcraft, rash-promise-making, bold-presumption incest, murder, insolence, inconstancie rash-vowes, trust-betraying, necromancie theft, avarice, usurie & drunkennes incontinence, face-painting, inquisitivenes ieolousie, blasphemie, crueltie, Piracie moderne-excesse, Rebellion, periurie cowardice, voaginge, fruites of lust, cOynes self-murder, fonde-wishers, & idlenes ingratefull-children, contempt of superiors cosonage, quarellinge, abuse of strangers lyingc, blab-tongue-women, inprecatinge polutinge-temples, coactive-love, gaminge ambition, Ladies-courtesie-abused Executors deceipte not to be excused Dissimulation, Womens-impudence Romes chastety, must be in th' future tense backbitinge, drunkards & their abettors gluttonie, contentious-persons, debtors craft-over-reacht, puttinge-children to Nurse swearinge, Wittolrie, the Merchants curse phisick-abus'd, Lawyers dissimulation excess-in-apparell, Heraldrie-abus'd, Treason Papists-religion, Jesuits-villanie equivocation, th' grounde of trecherie Men valued by their habits in Kings-Courts illitterate-Priests & Guls, Lots not for sports the chastetie of all the cloystaed crue superstitious of prophesies receive their due betters envyinge, scorninge inferiors mockers of prophesy, women-maligners for many Popes dispense w**^ foulest sinnes THE MANUSCRIPT 15 Pope holynes & chastetye, not worth two pinnes Women-wearing-breeches, men-monstrous-masters fantastick-fashions, Empericks, rash-censurers, Vaine glorious-asses, irreconciliable-hatred perfidiousnes, old dotards, friendship-abused Warring t' enlarge Kingdomes, w*^ many more I reckon not all by well neere a score a hundred vices I doe thinke at least I've here displaid & against them protest learne not to doe them, but them viewe w**^ hate lest loving them, you them repent too late if you the vice comit, you may expecte the punishment : let not the one inf ecte unles y' are willing, th' other should be inflicted w*^ severall iudgments, note howe th' are afflicted by these mens falles, I all men warne. Beware for such as take noe warning, I not care Nowe for conclusion therfore of the whole to all ahke, I've freely dealt my dole & spar'd noe vice that came w**^in my waie so here I meane my weary course to stale some more accurate will shortly tread the paths my rougher Muse already beaten hath my leave I here of Poetrie doe take for I have writte untill my hande doth ake Finis. After reading these arguments and concluding lines of The Newe Metamorphosis, one can judge the amazing variety of subjects with which the author deals. With the extrava- gance of his period J. M. tells us with some arrogance and self-praise, "I have spar'd no one." Indeed, he might have written with truth that on some vices, especially those with which he charged the Church of Rome,^ he had expended ^ The Church of Rome is attacked in every book, but especially in Book X of both Vol. I and Vol. II. 16 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS sufficient vigor and virulent personalities to rival even the sledge-hammer strokes of Skelton. And on the other hand he metes out punishment for many of the sins of the flesh with apparent lack of sincerity; the author often chuckles audibly when telling with Rabelaisian gusto some particu- larly salacious tale, and the metamorphosis given as a rec- ompense for the wickedness of his characters seems a most perfunctory afterthought.^ The second title-page ^ is followed by a dialogue between the love god Cupid and the railing deity Momus, each one contending for the privilege of being patron of the follow- ing stories. Cupid hurls at Momus the abuse not only typical of much of the early popular satire, but also so abundantly found in the contemporary classical imitations of Persius and Juvenal.^ Cupid cries: "Thou foule mouthed, filthy, squite-eyed-cankered churle * that against all doth envious speeches hurle dost thou not knowe that I greate love can make my pleasant easy yoake upon him take? Howe then dar'st thou deny me to be Kinge who stirre affection in ech livinge thinge? But what dost here? why medlest w*^ these lynes? say what is here whereat thy heart repynes?" [Momus:! "I come to have them to me dedicate." This contention of the two gods is finally arranged by Mo- mus' decision that both should be the patrons of the work. He says: 1 There are many examples of tales of this description; excellent examples are the stories told around the bed of the woman in confine- ment, Vol. II, Book V. 2 Vol. I, fol. 3. 2 Examples are Hall's Virgidemiarum (1597), Biting Satires (1598); Marston The Metamorphosis of Pygmalions Image ; and certain Satyres (1598), The Scourge of Villanie (1598); Microcynicon by T. M., etc. * Vol. I, fol. 4. THE MANUSCRIPT 17 WDHthin this booke is matter of delighte ^ that patronize thou: that w''^ is of spighte my self will have, I will his Patron bee and let the envious freely carpe at mee take thou the one & I will have the other." Their dialogue is followed by a few lines by "The Authore to his Booke," showing that his intention had been to dedicate his work to the great Elizabeth,* — That which was unto a Queene intended is nowe unto, two powerfull gods comended ^ and in turn by the "Epistle dedicatorie" in just a single couplet. To Momus that same ever carpinge mate And unto Cupid, I this dedicate. The author himself, in his Prologue,* next introduces his book to the reader. After some self-praise and with the customary smug complacency of the Elizabethan satirist, he considers what shall be the nature of the work of which two gods are patrons. "Bloody warres," tales of love, histories of "Countryes strange," "rough Satyres" in "rough hairy skinnes, and "buskind Seneca," each in turn attracts him. Eventually he decides to combine these motifs; to touch them "one & all." Indeed, he confides to his public that The Newe Metamorphosis, because of its variety of themes, is like, ... a Flemish Gallemanfrey made of flesh, herbes, onyons, both of roote and blade. With Ovid as his only "patterne" in a work of this nature, J. M. determines to arraign "these impious tymes" in "yrefull Satyres, clad in rugged rymes." He asserts that he will not affect "curiositie of words," because his subject 1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 4 verso. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 4 verso. 3 Cf. Chap. VI. 18 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS does not demand it; in fact, he writes that he has "noe Poets pleasinge smoth-fyl'd veyne," and that he travels in a "hobbUng ryme." The Prologue closes with a prayer to Jove and to the Muses for favor, and a request to "Ma- tilda fayre" that she, who "rulest my harte," may aid his "wandering quill" in its attacks on the "secretest actions of rebyredness." At the close of the Prologue, in spite of the twenty-four arguments to the respective books and the diffuse conclusion to his work, the author again gives with some detail those vices he especially condemns in this "world infected with the goute." This Prologue not only sheds additional light on the nature of The Newe Metmnor-phosis, but it also brings to the foreground two matters for some consideration. The questions naturally arise both concerning the identity of "Matilda fayre," whom the author prays to "inflame my braine with Love celestiall fyre," and — what is of far more significance — the more technical subject of verse. J. M. in his digressions throughout the body of his work refers many times to this passion for Matilda.^ He writes that all poets know love, and, indeed, that he had written "these rough-he wen lynes" of The Newe Metamorphosis because he was inspired with its fiame.^ He places Matilda prominently among those women famous for their virtue and courage, and envies the man "who her enioyes at bed & bourd," for, as he writes with some charm, she is of those women, they Roses redolent w''^ sences chere men but as pricks w"^ doe the roses beare they are the swete Prim-roses of the feild or Honey-suckles w*"^ most sweetnes yeild.* 1 Examples are Vol. II, fos. 3 verso, 4, 13 verso, 14, 41, 28, 31 verso; Vol. I, Part II, fos. 49 verso ff. 2 Vol. II, fol. 13 verso. ^ Vol. I, Part II, fol. 49 verso. THE MANUSCRIPT 19 The reader can see by the many scattered references to Matilda that J. M. was no cold and formal lover delicately playing with the tender passion according to traditional rules. She was no illusive mistress of an Elizabethan sonnet sequence. Still in those books of the poem which clearly belong to the later years of composition, there is no further mention of his youthful fancy. Whether the poet had conquered his passion, or additional years had proved to him that even "Swete Matilda" was no longer needed for an inspiration to so facile and loquacious a writer, must remain in doubt. It is a matter of interest, however, that in his earlier work, in spite of those diatribes against women — an inheritance to the Elizabethan from the middle ages — there is much generous praise and, indeed, reverence for the good wife, the noble mother, and the virtuous maiden.^ In addition to the allusion to Maltilda, the author also tells us in the Prologue that he will arraign the vices of the times in "yrefull satyres, clad in rugged rymes." A little later he writes that "Satyres are clothed in rough hairy skinnes" and that I have noe Poets pleasinge smoth fyld veyne but a ragg'd SatjTists rougher hewen strains. It seems, therefore, best to discuss at this point the versi- fication of The Newe Metamorphosis and the general nature of the work. The poem is written in heroic couplet, fairly regular and with comparatively few of the run-on lines so displeasing to the eighteenth-century prosodist. Donne had first used in England the decasyllabic couplet in formal satire;^ but ^ For example see Vol. I, Part II, fos. 49 verso, 98, etc. ^ Cf. R. M. Alden, The Rise of Formal Satire in England, p. 83. 20 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS he did not possess the metrical fehcity or epigrammatic skill of his contemporary Joseph Hall, whose verse, Warton wrote, "approaches to the modern standards."^ Indeed, Hall attained to an eminent degree the central caesura, the balance of the two halves of the verse, the completion of sense in the couplet, found in the eighteenth-century sati- rists. Spenser ^ and Drayton ^ had also used with consider- able skill, in the latter part of the sixteenth century, the heroic couplet for narrative work. And so J. M., with many excellent contemporary models, and Chaucer's brilliant use of the couplet also, possibly, in mind, chose "the best metri- cal form which intelligence, as distinct from poetical feeling, can employ."^ It cannot be claimed that our author is eminently happy in his use of verse. He often travels with a "hobbling gait," and he himself is most candid in admitting his limi- tations. Many times in the work, when fired by love of country, of church, of his rulers, or of virtue, he plaintively, and apparently sincerely, confesses his shortcomings as a poet. He makes no claim that he is favored by his Muse. He also has written hastily and revised seldom. The following quotations are not the most happy examples of the poet's versification, but they show him laboring under genuine emotion: Thou great all-seeing, & almighty-God w"^ makest the wicked feele thine angry rod thou great Creator of this globe-like world w''^ thus o'' enimies into sea hast hurld thou God of Battles & successfull warre w^*^*^ thus our foes didst from o'' kingdome bar ^ Warton, History of English Poetry, ed. Hazlitt, Vol. IV, p. 367. 2 Cf. Spenser, Mother Hubberd's Tale. ^ Drayton, Heroicall Epistles, 1597. * Woodberry, Makers of Literature, p. 504. THE MANUSCRIPT 21 accept this sacrifice which I freely give Most humble thanks, & will doe, while I live for this deliverance from o"" enimye who us, religion, & thy selfe defie Not unto us, oh Lord, not unto us are praises due, thou art victorious unto thy name, we attribute the praise who for thy chosen hast so many wayes to work deliverance : oh defend us still from Spanish rage, who toyle to worke us ill oh still defende Mee & my Realmes from those that both to Thee & us are mortall foes as all o'' hope is in thy saving name so evermore defende us by the same Amen, amen, greate Jove graunt o'" request so both in life & death we shalbe blest ^ Warre is a Tyrant & a bloody one it hath noe eares to heare the widdowes moane it heares not infants, virgines, womens cryes War 's deafe on 's eares, & bUnd on both his eyes Warre seperates the Lover from his Love and doth the husband from his wife remove it barren makes & wastes the fertilst soile it keepes the Husbandman from 's pleasing toile. Warre doth expose to dangers infinite 't is noe boyes play in feild 'mongst foes to fight ^ Peace is a thinge of most admyred worth Peace breedeth plenty & makes ech place florish all lauded arts it teacheth & doth nourish Peace maketh learning florish, goods increase a sacred thinge is sweete according Peace ^ Vol. I, Part II, fos. 134 verso ff. A prayer of Elizabeth after the defeat of the Armada. ^ Vol. II, fol. 127 verso. An only son has been slain in the sacking of Cadiz, 1596. 22 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS it filleth men w*^ joye & boyes w*^ mirthe it labo''^ to expell all-killinge-dearth Peace fiUes w*^ people, countryes, cityes, townes it puts off Steele & clotheth men in gownes Arachne in the Steele cappe, workes apace her endles web w*4n a narrowe space. Peace, plants & builds, & sowes & reapes increase marryes, makes contracts, trafiques ore the seas makes purchases be bought & marts frequented makes toylesome husbandman take lease indented peace plants religion, that soule-saving-arte w°^ mortals doth imortally converte. ^ Only once in the course of the work does the author change from the heroic couplet. A martial lover has been wooing in vain, and finally, driven by his passion to verse, he addresses to his lady several stanzas of six verses of the type used so melodiously in Venus and Adonis. This hero finally won his mistress after using the aid of a very mis- chievous god of love and the disguise of a page employed also by Viola,^ Euphrasia,^ and Eroclea* in the drama of the period. His stanzas pray for the transforming of his cruel mistress into compliance. Following are the last two: Which, Oh you Gods, that did Pigmalion ayde ayde me I you beseeche on bended knee move but her harte, (the w"^ so much hath straied from my deere love) that she my love may see & thou swete Venus, helpe too w*^ the rest so shalt thou wyn me to thy deere behest. 1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 66 ff. In praise of peace with Spain. 2 Shakspere, Twelfth Night. 3 Beaumont and Fletcher, Philaster. * Ford, The Lover's Melancholy. THE MANUSCRIPT 23 Grante, grante yee Gods, that her harde diamonde harte may metamorphosed be to softest mould greate Cupid thou helpe w*'^ thy burning darte she burne w**^ heate, rather then frize w*^ colde grante, grante yee heavenly powers this my request w"^ if you doe I shalbe ever blest. Even from the few preceding examples one can see that when J. M. in the Prologue declares that his purpose is to attack the follies and sins of his contemporaries in "yrefull satyres, clad in rugged rhymes" and that his verse is "a ragg'd Satyrists rougher hewen strain," he is only following that popular conception of his day concerning the rough- ness and ruggedness of satires. His verse, it is true, lacks the harmony and musical lightness of the true artist of versi- fication, but the diction is strikingly free from labored man- nerisms or uncouth affectations. He is never obscure. This conception that the satirist must be savage, obscure, and rough was traditional. Donne, one of the first, if not the first, of the formal satirists in England, certainly shows a contempt of regularity to an excessive degree, and his measure is often characterized "by approximation to the common speech of conversation."^ But HalV on the other hand, was metrically an artist of no mean skill; and his rival Marston,^ although not so regular or polished in his use of the couplet, yet possessed unmistakable power. Persius, however, with his supposedly crabbed and snarhng tone, was the model of the Elizabethan satirist. Marston, indeed, speaks of the "Hungry fangs" of "Satires sharpes line" and of the "knotty rod";* but he also writes that 1 R. M. Alden, The Rise of Formal Satire in England, p. 83. ^ Virgidemiarum Sixe Books. ^ The Metamorphosis of Pigmalions Image and Certayne Satyres, 1598; The Scourge of Villanie, 1598. 4 Satire II, p. 269. Cf. BuUen, Marston's Worhs, Vol. III. 24 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS "I hate to affect too much obscurity and harshness, because they profit no sense" and that there are some "deeming all satires bastard which are not palpably dark, and so rough writ that the hearing of them read would set a man's teeth on edge."^ It was this conventional conception of satire that made the author of The Newe Metamorphosis express himself in the words quoted from the Prologue. But even the statement that he is a satirist, or at least primarily a satirist, can be further questioned. In spite of his dedication to the God of Spight, as well as to Cupid, and in spite of his oft-expressed assumption of an exalted moral purpose,^ J. M. is surely no writer of formal satire based on classical models, or even of the popular variety indigenous in England since the time of the Conquest and reaching its culmination in Piers Plowman and its most extravagant expression in Skelton. He is rather a shrewd author with his fingers on the pulse of a fickle public, trying to strike a popular note to gain the attention of the restless, sensation-craving Elizabethan. Cupid, we know, shares the honor with Momus as patron of the work, and we also read that no one was a "patterne" to him in England, but . . . Ovid alone was he that in this labo' did encourage me. Later we are told that love drives his victims to poetry and that the author, a slave of the god, has turned to this work in acknowledgment of the chains he wears.' Indeed, the first title-page, reading The Newe Metamorphosis, Or A Feaste of Fancie or Poeticall Legendes, shows indubitably the original intention of J. M. The second title-page, 1 Preface to Scourge of Villanie, Vol. Ill, pp. 304, 305. 2 For example see Prologue, fos. 5 verso, 6 recto; Vol. II, Book XII, conclusion. 3 Vol. II, fol. 13 verso. THE MANUSCRIPT 25 reading An Illiad of Metamorphosis Or The Arraignment of Vice, adds the idea of "yrefull Satyres": t' unvizar those w*^*^ secretly doe maske in selfe-conceiot, & their lewde actions showe that all the world their villainies may knowe.^ And, even his naive confession that he does not possess the time ... to bestowe, more labo' on them,^ the rather for I knowe bookes of this nature being once pCer]used are ther cast by & as brayed-ware refused.' shows that J. M. intended no serious work of instruction and edification, but rather purposed to give "matter of dehght" to many readers. There is, however, much satire scattered throughout the many pages, — satire that is pungently vigorous, bringing at times a nicely etched picture before the reader, and again satire that rivals in bitterness and coarseness the vitupera- tive outbursts of the Reformation satirists. This may be expressed in a verse or two, in long passages, or, as is frequently the case, it may furnish the motif for a story of some length. It may be linked closely to the material concerning which the author is writing, or again a chance word or an idea distantly related to the subject-matter may be the occasion for a digression, often of interest. J. M., in general, attacks the same abuses and vices found in both earlier and contemporary satire. He adds httle that is new. Women — their fickleness,* love of gossip,^ ' Vol. I, fol. 5. 2 The books. ' Prologue, fol. 6. * Vol. I, fol. 64 verso. 6 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 42, 76 verso. 26 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS shrewish perversity/ extravagance and greed for money,* incontinence ^ — are the theme of much jocose and con- ventional abuse. The bawd and the courtesan are also frequently held up in contumely. The gull, with his passion for absurd fashions, his easy deception by a wanton wife,* and his foolish affectations in diction,^ is also a popular and recurring theme. Alchemy,^ idle superstition,'' "fake" doctors,* the ignorance of the clergy,^ usury,^° gambling, ^^ drunkenness,^^ are all arraigned with considerable heat. The nouveaux riches " and the many worthless aspirants to gentility especially arouse the author's anger. He attacks them with vehemence, writing in scorn that ech Kenil-raker for eleven nobles may have Heralds nowe his riche coate to display for Ravens all about the country file for bace reward to Patent-Genterie nay to compell men that unwilling be so he may have a mercinary fee a fee of fewer markes he'le accept or rather to make them Gentlemen that had no father base & lowe ranke clownes. Artificers for he his prey 'bove all respects prefers so some are nowe growne ancient Gentlemen who by the yeare of pounds can scarce spende ten 1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 19 verso, 71 verso; Vol. II, fol. 124 verso » Vol. I, fol. 74; Vol. II, fos. 10 ff. ' Vol. I, fol. 75 verso. * Vol. I, Part I, fos. 78 ff.; Vol. II, fos. 71, 138, 257 verso ff. « Vol. I, Part II, Book X. « Vol. I, Part II, fol. 28 verso. 7 Vol. I, fos. 68, 76 verso; Vol. II, 53 verso. 8 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 46; Vol. II, fos. 98 verso ff. 9 Vol. II, fos. 96 ff. " Vol. II, fos. 258 verso ff. i^ Vol. II, fos. 234 ff. " Vol. II, fos. 116 verso ff. " Vol. II, fos. 263 ff. THE MANUSCRIPT 27 and base Mechanicks that but Barbers be doe boast themselves no we of their Genterie. I mervaile much that that same noble vice should Gnats & Wormes unto its lure entice that Butterflies & caterpillers should seeke to adorne themselves in cloth of gold. But when J. M. speaks of lawyers, of faithless magis- trates and evil executors ^ robbing the orphan, of Spain, the traditional enemy of his country,^ of traitors to his ruler, and preeminently of the Church of Rome, ^' ^ we find a ringing note of hearty sincerity in his utterances, a sterner voice arraigning what he believes to be the niost insidious and dangerous enemies of England. The follies and idio- syncrasies of his equals, the petty ambitions and mean- nesses of those about him, excite a rather contemptuously amused attitude; but traitors to his country and to his religion call forth anathemas. The Newe Metamorphosis, however, is essentially a col- lection of stories, the majority of them of evildoers who by some metamorphosis are punished by the enraged gods. It is a continuation in verse of the popular work of Painter, Fenton, Pettie, Rich,^ and their imitators, except that Ovid and contemporary life often furnished the coloring and motif. 1 Vol. I, fos. 83 flf., 88; Part II, fol. 97; Vol. II, fos. 75 ff. 2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 122 verso ff. 3 Vol. I, Book X, and Vol. II, Book X, especially. * In Vol. II, Book X, fol. 232 verso, J. M. speaks of his attacks on the "Catholique Church"; in Vol. I, Part II, fol. 91 verso he refers to his attacks on the "holy Clarkes" of Rome. He considers all those who recognize the spiritual authority of the Pope as "Catholique," and he attacks in the manuscript not only the ceremonies of the Roman Church, but also its followers. In the following pages I use the term "Roman Catholic" in the accepted sense. ^ Sixteenth-century writers of prose tales based usually on Italian novels. 28 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS J. M. knew that love tales, and especially stories of meta- morphosis, were popular in England. Scilla's Metamor- phosis had appeared in 1-589;^ Venus and Adonis had certainly met with favor; there was a second edition of Hero andLeander in 1600;^ and Marston's Pygmalion,^ in spite — or possibly because — of its want of delicacy, became so widely circulated that Archbishop Whitgift ordered it consigned to the flames along with certain other offensive works.* Jervase Markham, in the same year that saw Venus and Adonis given to the public, entered in the Sta- tioners' Register a work, now lost, called Thyrsis and Daphne,^ which may have belonged to this class.^ J. M., planning to catch the ear of a volatile public, combined this metamorphosis motif with its tendency to indehcacy and "wanton rhymes" to that of satire. Indeed, he probably justified himself in this way, in anticipation against the charge of licentiousness, by donning a mask of conventional morality, which at times he frankly drops when the piquancy and zest of a certain episode appeal too strongly to him ^ or when his inherent moral strength and hatred of certain kinds of cant and hypocrisy stir him from his pose.* In addition to the popularity of the Ovidian poem, offer- ing both an opportunity for the excess mellifluence and for ^ Thomas Lodge. ^ Two editions of Hero and Leander had appeared in 1598, the first edition containing only Marlowe's work. ' The Metamorphosis of Pygmalions Image and certayne Satyres, entered in the Stationers' Register on May 27, 1598. * June, 1599. Hall, Guilpin, Cutwood, Davies, and Marlowe were among those punished with Marston. ^ Venus and Adonis entered April 18, 1593. ^ Francis Beaumont's Salmacis and Hermaphroditus was published in 1602. ^ Many examples of this; one is Vol. 1, fos. 40 verso ff. * Vol. J, Book X, is an example. THE MANUSCRIPT 29 the tendency to indelicate details so attractive to the Eliza- bethan, the word "Metamorphosis" was most popular as a title dm-ing the decade before the death of Elizabeth and in the first years of the reign of James. Besides being used in the poems before mentioned, we find the popular trans- lator of Orlaiido Furioso shocking and amusing the not too fastidious court by his A new Discourse of a Stale Subject, called the Metamorphosis of Ajax, ^ which, chiefly because of its satiric grossness and broad humor, was printed three times in one year. In 1600, the year that J. M. commenced his work, we find the "semi-allegorical" and semi-satiric^ Transformed Metamorphosis of Cyril Tourneur, which in its attacks on the Roman Catholic Church,^ its allusions to Essex' Irish campaign,^ and its conclusion dealing with the coming of James as the defender of Protestanism strikes many notes touched in The Newe Metamorphosis. The same year also saw the entering in the Stationers' Register of the dramas, Maids Metamorphosis and Loves Metamorphosis. This popularity of the vidian poem, of satire, of the metamorphosis title, and especially of collections of stories undoubtedly prompted J. M. to the choice of the subject- matter and the title of this manuscript with the result that The Newe Metamorphosis reflects to a marked degree the tastes of the period. As J . M. writes in the Prologue that Ovid alone was his "patterne," the reader might expect that in the pages fol- lowing he would find a series of vidian stories. From 1 Published 1596. Mr. Steevens in his edition of Shakespere, 1793, Vol. 5, p. 354, says that "a licence was refused for printing this book, and the author was forbid the court for writing it." 2 Tom-neur's Plays and Poems, ed. Churton Collins, Vol. II, has an analysis of The Transformed Metamorphosis. 3 Stanzas 43-50. * Stanzas 57-71. 30 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Ovid J. M. has borrowed, indeed, the idea of the metamor- phosis, which he uses indiscriminately and with charming naivete for virgins either betrayed by lustful gods^ or escaping from lecherous pursuers,^ for wantons,^ gluttons,^ gossips,^ drunkards,® lawyers, gamblers,'' gulls, ^ dandies,^ murderers,^*^ Spaniards," Irish kerns,^^ witches,^^ friars and nuns,^* popes, ^^ and many others belonging to the land of fairies, mythical Egypt, classical Greece and Rome, or to the poet's own environment. Indeed, the great Elizabeth herself is found after death among the gods,^" and the la- mented Prince Henry ^'^ becomes "aperpetuall Roy" ruling a heavenly kingdom and benificently aiding the English people. J. M. almost invariably, however, in contrast to Ovid, 1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 8 verso ff. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fos. 42 recto and verso. Lyaeus, changed to the grapevine, is honored by Bacchus. ^ Vol. I, Part I. Bacchus turns wanton Sabella to a "tamarisk- tree," her husband, a sodomist, to an elder. * Vol. II, fol. 245 verso. ^ Vol. I, Part II, fol. 34 verso. 6 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 36 verso. •' Vol. II, fol. 18. 8 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 90 recto. ' Vol. I, Part II, fol. 78. Mercury places the dandy, always chang- ing the fashions, into the inconstant moon. i» Vol. II, fol. 20. " Vol. I, Part II, fol. 134. ^^ Vol. I, Part I, fos. 19 to 21 verso. The evil kerns are changed to wolves. 13 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 80 verso. The Scottish witch is changed to a crocodile, her helpers to crabs. 1* Vol. I, Part I, fos. 11 and following. Cupid changes a wanton nun to a smoking altar, the monk to the fire on it. 16 Vol. II, Book X. 16 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 136 verso. " Vol. I, Part II, fol. 232 verso. THE MANUSCRIPT 31 uses the act of metamorphosis for punishment of sins against the moral code. In this way his subtitle, The Arraignment of Vice,^ is justified even when the author has been relating the gayest and most risque of fabliaux. But there are several exceptions to this practice. For example, the pure Matilda,^ wooed by the lecherous king Mempricius, even after the death of a devoted husband with whom she had fled disguised, refused to listen to the insidious blandish- ments of her ruler and the garrulous old bawd who panders to his lust. To escape her fate, by a clever ruse she jumps into a huge fire, made in honor of the king, and is changed by the kindly Juno into the Salamander and from hurt by f3Te, was made for ever free.^ Another example of a kindly metamorphosis is found in the romantic tale of Arabianus and his Phoenicia.* He was the ardent young king of a country near the "Pigmies land" who had become inflamed with love by seeing the picture of the daughter of the emperor of Germany. He wooed her with gifts and eventually won her. Later he was killed in single combat. The young grief -stricken wife flung herself into the funeral pyre and was metamor- phosed into the Phoenix. A more pleasing end of love awaited the faithful and virtuous shepherd and his wife,^ who, after a life which exemplified all the Arcadian virtues and which was filled with incidents recalhng Penelope and her suitors, Joseph and Potiphar's wife, and the pirate adventures of the Spanish Main, were translated into two stately palms on opposite sides 1 Vol. I, fol. 3. 2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 9 verso ff. 3 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 16. 4 Vol. I, Part II, Book IX, to fol. 48 verso. " Vol. II, Book II, fos. 21 verso ff. 32 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS of Erymanthus sweete, a Ky\'er wyde, and though a broad River did betweene them run their arms grewe over it, where still they meete w**^ kynde embraces they ech other greete.^ But J. M. not only borrows the idea of a metamorphosis from his master Ovid; he has also taken bodily many incidents from the Roman poet and at tiines parallels closely the Metamorphoses. Indeed, several of the tales in The Newe Metamorphosis center about an amorous god or goddess, and in theme, at least, these might take their place in the work of his prototype. Jupiter woos a not coy Venus in the guise of a sparrow, ^ very much in the same fashion as in the semblance of a swan he betrays the innocent Leda. Neptune, having satisfied his desire with Amalina,^ the lovely daughter of Venus and the lusty helper of Vulcan, in order to prove to her the pleasures of each sex grants her the favor of becoming a man. This, of course, recalls Teresias ■* with his dual sex. The Grecian goatherd, Malisco, rapes his daughter Oechaia,^ and then, in order to conceal his crime, tears out her tongue and brutally maltreats her. He falls victim to his lust in much the same manner as Tereus,^ who attacks Philomela, the sister of his wife. The vivid picture of guilty love and fear in both stories has much in common. And as Tereus, in ignorance, eats the body of his young son, so a brutal father, driving his heir and the maiden to whom he had been betrothed to 1 Vol. II, Book II, fol. 37. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 14 verso. 3 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 50. * Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book III, Fable V. 6 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 30 ff. 8 Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book VI, Fables V and VI. Pettie in his A Petite Pallace of Pettie His Pleasure, tells this for his second story. THE MANUSCRIPT 33 suicide by his cruel treatment, feasts on the body which had been transformed into a carp.^ Again we find Leda, after she had transformed the country clowns into frogs because of their disrespect," travel-stained, foot-sore, and hungry, with a babe in each arm, reaching Germany.^ She comes to "The Hage" and ... as she thus travailed of a greate Lady she did begge for breade who in ech arme when she a Babe did spie protested she w*^ more then one did lye that they were not the children of one father she often cald her Whore, so much the rather because she bore two children at a birth nor spake she iestingly, nor yet in mirth but w*^ vile taunts & contumelious words w*'*^ her malignant spirit her affourds. Leda is angered at these undeserved gibes. She prays to her lover, Jove, to punish the virulent Margarita, and as a result she fell in travaile & therew*^ was tyred * the Midwife & the neighboures all aboute of her deliverance began to doubt greate prayers she had, at length was brought a bed and of Three hundred sixty five delivered of Boys & girls. The poet tells the reader this event occurred in the year 1276 and that ^ Vol. I, Part II, folio 7 verso. 2 Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book IV, Fable III. 3 Vol. II, fos. 83 verso ff. * Vol. II, fol. 84 verso. 34 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS neere unto Hage they buryed doe lye richly intombed for better memorie w*^ in the Monastery of S* Barnardo there who doubteth it, may see it plaine appeare upon the tombe, their pictures you may see.^ 1 have quoted this surprising and eminently adequate punishment because it is an excellent example of how the author, with the amazing freedom of a typical Ehzabethan, at times mingles classical figures and motifs with medieval legends, with metrical romances, with the ribald jests of the fabliau, with the witchcraft theme, and with the erotic and intricate intrigue of the novelle. Another striking example of this freedom of treatment we find in two stories of Bacchus, who, journeying among mortals, comes in the morning to a London house of ill fame. Here he meets ^ A crookt old Beldame . . . a foule mishapen-platter f aced-blayne as black as Luce . . .' who tells him of her charming Puten, who was so ardently sought by the London gallant that White Fryers, then was left quite unfrequented Clarton-well,'* Bancks-side & Pickt-hatch, repented that ever she so comonly was knowne for that their houses out of use were growne.^ ^ Marie of France, in Le Fraine, has the same incident. A woman who upbraids another with the charge of unfaithfulness because of twins also bears twins. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 38 ff. ' Luce, the bawd, has already been mentioned. Cf. Vol. I, Part I, fol. 23 verso. * Waldron, in the margin of the page, has written Clerkenwell. 5 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 38 verso. THE MANUSCRIPT 35 And she calls: "Mai Newberry, come thou in Putens steade come forth Franck Twiste, my wench w*** yealowe hairs for such encounters she will soon prepare Bes Lister come my prety nymble Trull And this same Bacchus, pictured here as a callow youth, a Httle later becomes the Ovidian god pursuing the nymph Lyaeus, . , . whom he followed fast she as fast, did fly away aghast even as the Harte flees by the grey hound chased So runs Lyaeus ^ . . . feare makes more speede then hope, yet he runs fast feare runs for life, hope runs for pleasures taste. The amorous Bacchus urges her to rest; he assures her of his consuming love and of her future abode among the gods, but his prayers are of no avail: Her armes and fingers were made branches then broade leaves grewe upon her fingers ten. She becomes the grapevine, and her lover exclaims: "Thou shalt be Bacchus love aUve & dead (said then the God) and henceforth from my head He shake the yoie garland & put on thy comfortable branches." The first adventure of the god and the fawning panderess is both Elizabethan in atmosphere and treatment — an original bit of realism ; his love and pursuit of the frightened nymph are close parallels of the graceful story of Apollo and Daphne, or of Pan and Syrinx.^ There are many examples, however, in The Newe Meta- 1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 42 ff. 2 Ovid, The Metamorphoses, Book I, Fables XII and XV. 36 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS morphosis of fabliaux in which we find the Olympian deities taking no part, or, at least, appearing in a perfunctory- fashion. These tales, it is true, are coarse, full of the broad wit and rough fun of the Jest Books, and they deal with the customary themes of the profligacy and pertinacity of women, the ignorant superstition of the illiterate, and the crassitude of the gull; yet, on the other hand, the best of these are so filled with a gay sensuality and a joy of life arising from the virile personality of the author that they show J. M. at his best as a story-teller. "The greatest masters of the farcical romances cannot measure swords with Chaucer," ^ and so it is fitting that J. M., reveling in this genre, should not only pay a small tribute to . . . S"" Jeffr'y Chaucer he the first life given to o'' poesie ^ but also should borrow plan and incidents, and, with slight modifications, a story from the Canterbury Tales. A wrinkled and feeble Saturn woos a very youthful Lady May ^ in much the same manner as the amorous Januarie of Chaucer, in spite of Placebo's admonitions, prepares to marry in his dotage.'* Like his immortal prede- cessor the absurd old man apes juvenility and anticipates with senile lust his marriage.^ Another time J. M. tells of a husband who was paid for the injury done to his honor by money which he had given to his wife, recalling the wily Daun John of the Shipman's Tale,^ and of a shrewish 1 Ten Brink, Hist, of Eng. Lit., Vol. II, p. 154, English translation. 2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 90 verso. ^ Vol. I, Part II, fos. 2 verso ff. This is given in Chap. VI. * Chaucer's Works, Globe edition, The Merchant's Tale, pp. 203 ff. 6 Vol. II, fos. 138 £f. ^ Chaucer's Works, Globe edition, p. 84. Boccaccio, Decameron, Eighth Day, Novel I, has the same incident. THE MANUSCRIPT 37 wife who ruled her husband and who boasted that "Tie never give consent to be inferior I'le equall be at least, if not superior I scorne t' obey my husbands stoute comande I'le make him stande & pray w**^ cap in hande I'le make the house too hotte for such an one." ^ She even surpasses the garrulous, whunsical, and unmortal wife of Bath in that Six husbands too, before this she hath had this was the seaventh . . . ^ A godly Parson also is pictured. He is one of the reckless company of a ship of war who decide to relieve the tedium of their voyage by story-telling. The Shipmaster, ... a corpulent fatte Swadde a bon-companion, a right Joviall lad,' voluble and contentious, had proposed "... a project rare come my brave hearts, y'' noble tales prepare se how w' are freinded w*^ swete pleasant gales now have at Chancers Canterburie Tales As I went to Canterbury to St. Beckets shryne." * This Parson had justly rebuked the coarseness of some of his companions and had discussed learnedly and at length of the commonwealth, lots profane or favored by God, and the planting of colonies in Virginia and Ireland. The arrogant Master, taking umbrage at some of his remarks, 1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 88 ff. 2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 88 verso. 3 Vol. II, fol. 129. ^ Vol. II, fol. 130 verso. 38 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS exclaims that the Parson "lewdly" plays with bishops' orders and king's lawes, and remarks that "what er is don, you Puritans mislike though not w*^ fists, yet w*^ y' tongues yow strike." ^ This good Parson not only resembles the godly man found in the immortal pilgrimage to Canterbury, but Uke the latter, who is suspected of being a Lollard, ^ he bears the contumely of being called a Puritan. J. M. in creating this character certainly had Chaucer in mind. One tale, however, follows Chaucer even more closely. The immortal Reeve's Tale, in which is displayed a "talent for invention, characterization, and motives, and a comic power such as were never again attained in this class," ^ serves as the model. J. M. certainly does not possess the con- structive or analytic genius of his master, and his story of the superstitious Bolton,* fearing a recurrence of the Flood, and of the wanton wife and the lusty miller, whose intrigue forms a realistic subplot, lacks the masterly presentation of its model. Still there is a serious attempt at characteriza- tion which, with the extravagant comedy intermingled with much rather flippant irony, leads to the cleverly man- aged and dramatic denouement and shows the author of The Newe Metamorphosis in his merriest vein.^ Indeed, it is in the fabliau that our author seems to be in his element. There are many tales of this type in the col- lection, some marred by an obscenity which is not rendered less objectionable, as in the case in Chaucer, by great art. 1 Vol. II, fol. 137. 2 Chaucer's Works, Globe edition, p. 79. ' Ten Brink, Hist, of Eng. Lit, Vol. II, p. 154, English translation. * Vol. II, fos. 51 verso ff. ^ This tale is given almost entirely in the selections in Chap. VI. The story of the man who awaits the end of the world by flood is also told by Valentin Schumann, 1599. Cf. Root, The Poetry of Chancer, p. 174. THE MANUSCRIPT 39 In fact, a rollicking and irrepressible Steward of a ship's company, who revels in drink and bawdy stories and re- joices in poking fun at his superiors, even offends by his wanton narrative the none too nice Master of his ship, who exclaims : "for bawdy tales, thou most compare w*** any sure Italy like thee affourds not many." ^ But The Newe Metamorphosis does not only draw from Ovid, Chaucer, and fabliau material; the author, with that facile aptitude of his contemporaries of gleaning whatever might be of interest to them from all possible sources and of refurbishing their material in such a way as to make it difficult to recognize, although it may be full of haunting reminiscences, has levied contributions from a variety of material, both classical and romantic, historical and legen- dary, religious and profane. The result is that The Newe Metamorphosis is a perplexing potpourri of learning, super- stition, and popular motifs which must be disentangled in some degree in order to understand the manuscript. J. M., in addition to the influences mentioned, admires, . . . noble Spenser nowe of fairest fame whose glorious workes imortalize his name.^ Spenser not only furnished names to The Newe Metamorphosis and affected the plan of the poem in important ways,^ but J. M. introduces a chronicle of British kings, com- mencing in place of Brute * with Adam, God's . . . earthlie eldest son and this our lynage even from God doth come; ^ 1 Vol. II, fol. 166 verso. 2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 91. ^ Discussed on page 46. * Spenser, Fairy Queen, Book III, Canto III, « Vol. II, fol. 249 verso. 40 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS numerous conventional marriages of rivers, recalKng the union of the Thames and Med way; ^ and a description and prophesy of the seer, Merhn,^ resembhng in many details that of Spenser.^ He also tells a story of love and of tourneys,* of a fair lady's gift to her knight, and of a snow-white palfrey, which, could take its place in metrical romance or among the adventures of The Faerie Queened Of course, J. M. lacks the exquisite melody and the delicate fancifulness and spirituaHty of Spenser; he possesses, however, a vigor and a certain sturdy directness which have an undeniable charm of their own. The pastoral also attracts the author of The Newe Meta- morphosis. The most characteristic shows the land of Arcadia,^ Arcadia is a country much renownd, with wooing shepherds and a lovely shepherdess. But the author also introduces in this story English shires, pirates, Turks, and the Roman CathoUc Church. In this Arcadia a happy shepherd and his wife, in spite of prosperity, lived in a modest way and did not . . . like to Courtiers clad in silke and gold strout in puft pride, as full as they might holde. In addition to these fabliaux, romances, pastorals, and Ovidian tales, the manuscript affords the reader even a more varied choice. The Muse Thalia speaks of inventions; ^ the chronicles furnish a stereotyped list of kings; ^ the defeat 1 Spenser, Fainj Queen, Book IV, Canto XI. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 115 verso. ^ Spenser, Fairie Queen, Book III, Canto III. * Vol. I, Part II, fol. 40 verso. ^ The author mentions in this story his "author," Vol. I, Part II, fos. 21 verso ff. 6 Vol. II, Book, II, fos. 21 verso ff. 7 Vol. I, fol. 69. 8 Vol. II, fol. 249 verso. THE MANUSCRIPT 41 of the Armada/ the sacking of Cadiz,^ and the Gunpowder Plot ^ are examples of historical narrative ; semihistorical pirates and robbers/ the medicinal qualities of various mineral springs/ and even a "town and a gown" prank at Cambridge ^ help to lend variety to the narrative; and demonology is represented by Irish witches. He writes: ... in Riddles & in Seeves they ride upon the face of Neptunes foaming browe (for not on foote, or horsebacke ride they nowe) w*** flaggons full of merry-makinge-wyne w*'^ to more ioUity make them enclyne that on the sea, they freely did carrouse they feare not drowning though the billowes souse their leaking vessels, making them to daunce nowe high, nowe lowe, as barbed horses pranse. That is a token sure a wytch to knowe they will not drowne though yo" in sea them throwe.'' There are also in this manuscript many tales exempli- fying the Reformation attitude toward the Papacy and the Roman Catholic Church. Mars and Vulcan have sordid intrigues with wanton nuns,^ and dissolute priests urge chaste wives to dishonor.^ Again, the popes themselves, dignitaries of the Roman Church, and plotters, such as the soldier of fortune Fawkes and the crafty Garnet/'* 1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 123. 2 Vol. II, fol. 119. 3 Vol. II, Book X. * Vol. I, fol. 66, and Vol. II, fol. 32 verso. 6 Vol. II, fol. 95 ff. 6 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 30. ^ Vol. I, fol. 77 verso. This .story is taken from a pamphlet, Newes from Scotland, printed for William Wright. Cf. Pitcairn's Criminal Trials, Vol. I, pp. 213 ff. /. M. has followed his original very closely. 8 Vol. II, fos. 46 ff. 9 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 20 ff. 1" Vol. I, Part II, Book X, and Vol. II, Book X. 42 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS are arraigned at times with direct abuse; again, they play a part as the villians in some story. Indeed, Garnet is given the place of Charon and Pope Sextus that of Cerberus in a hell which is peopled only by Roman Catholics.^ The author himself, possibly influenced by Virgil and Dante, visits the lower regions,^ where he sees all former popes and their supporters. The stories of intrigue — the narratives of unfaithful husbands, of giddy wives, and of determined lovers — fill many pages of The Newe Metamorphosis. This type of story was undoubtedly drawn from Italian and other continental sources or from their numerous English translations. In the second volume, where J. M. forgets more frequently his ''patterne" Ovid, and the lustful Olympians appear only to effect a metamorphosis, fabliaux and novelettes appear in rapid succession ^ and often with happy effect. One exceptional story of intrigue — a melange of many motifs — leads us to an enchanted palace, pictured with the wealth of detail which we find in the House of Fame or in The Faerie Queene, and also to a burly negro succubus.^ When the reader finishes The Newe Metamorphosis, he may well agree with the author ^ that in this diverse material one will find something to interest, something to please. He may weary of the stories, but the frequent digressions, the satire, sometimes conventional, often refreshing, and the homely reflections and quaint folklore keep his attention from flagging. Let us now turn from the types of stories found in this manuscript to some of the authorities J. M. mentions in 1 Vol. II, fos. 211 ff. 2 Vol. II, fos. 212 fT. 3 Vol. II, Books VIII and IX. * Vol. I, Part I, fos. 71 ff. ^ Prologue. THE MANUSCRIPT 43 his work. In the Prologue, we have seen, he states that Ovid was the only one. that in this labor did encourage me; but in addition to the author of the Metamorphoses, his debt to others is undoubtedly large. Few of his stories are of his own invention. His originals could be discovered, possibly, in French fabliau,^ in classical and Oriental collections, in legendary folklore, in Italian novelle, and in the chronicles. It is true, however, that at times he draws from contemporary incidents. He takes what he wants freely, and he acloiowledges no obligation. But when his source may add to his reputation of learning and to his genial tone of authority, J. M. mentions it with scholarly care, often referring in the margin to the page whence he drew his information. Plutarch ^ — both his Lives and his Morals — is frequently mentioned ; the former work espe- cially is repeatedly referred to.^ Phny's Natural History * often helps to embellish the narrative. There are refer- ences also to Stowe,^ Purchas,'' Capgrave,'^ Milles' The Treasurie of Auncient and Moderne Times,^ Ortelius' Maps,^ ^ Les Cent Nouvelles contains several stories with the same incidents. Boccaccio, Decameron, Tenth Day, Novel IV, was probably the source for J. M's story of the lover finding his mistress in a tomb. Cf. Vol. II, fos. 156-161 verso. Turbeville also tells this story in his Tragicall Tales. 2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 48 verso, and Vol. II, fol. 105, are examples. 3 Examples are Vol. I, Part II, fos. 71 and 85 verso. 4 Vol. II, fol. 224 verso. 5 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 34; Vol. II, fol. 195. " Vol. II, fol. 117 verso. 7 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 64. * Vol. I, Part II, fol. 49. There are many references to this work. It was pubUshed 1613-1619. ' Vol. I, Part II, fol. 30. His Theatrum Orbis Terrarum was pub- Ushed 1570. 44 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Ralegh/ Suetonius,^ the Portuguese Acosta,^ and Chau- cer,* The conscientious tailor-chronicler and dihgent maker of maps, John Speed, not only is used frequently as an authority,^ but he is paid an admiringly labored tribute. Cupid being banished from "his regall throne"^ comes to Faiery, a fertill countrie & a pleasant soile, and those who doubt the truth of this, The Theatre of Brittan will resolve straiteway w"^ w*^ rare arte doth admirably expresse thinges of most moment leaving out the lesse whose Authors' fame shall never die though he w*^ Speede be turned to ashes speediUe. In addition J. M. shows a cosmopohtan and much paraded knowledge of rehgious controversialists and writers on Church doctrines. He refers to Stapleton,^ Sucliffe,* Bishop Jewell,^ 1 Vol. II, fol. 228 verso, History of the World. 2 Vol. II, 169 verso. 3 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 119, in the text. * Vol. II, fol. 220 verso. 6 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 30 recto and verso. John Speed (1552 ?-1629) . In 1598 he presented "divers maps" to the queen; in 1600 he gave some to the Merchant Taylors' Com-pany, of which he was a member; in 1607 he helped Camden with his Britannia, and in 1608-1610 he made many new maps of England and Wales. He published, 1611, Theatre of the Empire of Great Britain. His History of Great Britain continues the Theatre. Dictionary Nat. Biog., Vol. LIII, ed. 1898. « Vol. II, fol. 3. ' Thomas Stapleton (1535-1598), a great Catholic controversialist and zealot. Vol. I, Part II, fol. 62. 8 Royal chaplain to Elizabeth and James. His Actes and Monu- ments, 1562-1563. Vol. II, fol. 230. 9 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 70 verso. Apologia pro Ecdesia anglicana, 1562, Englished, 1564. THE MANUSCRIPT 45 Fox/ Durantus,^ the Bible,^ and to numerous other authors and works, both Enghsh and continental, on the mass, Church service, and saints.^ The question next arises, Is The Newe Metamorphosis a helter-skelter collection of miscellaneous stories, having no connection except the almost invariable metamorphosis and the tendency to digression as regards satire? J. M., to quote from the Prologue again, candidly confessed that in "this book" he "only aymde" "for some strange thinge to write "^ and, even as a Flemish Gallemanfrey made of flesh, herbes, onyons, both of roote & blade, so shall the reader find in the pages to follow "some bloody warres," of Love's "soft charme," of "Countryes strange," of "rough satyrs" to help purge "the wicked world to lewd- nes most enclyn'd," of "a comicke-lover," of "deaths unkynde," of government, of Princes, Lords, of Peisants & of Clownes strange murderinge & massacres, & poisons fell,* all intermingled to form An Iliade of Metamorphosis or an Arraignment of Vice. But he also attempted to provide a frame for this material; he did not plan to write a series of disconnected tales. J. M. had read widely. He knew Chaucer, Spenser, Ariosto,^ and undoubtedly most of the contemporary col- lections of stories so popular on the continent and in Eng- 1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 74 verso. 2 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 62. 3 Vol. II, fol. 227. 4 Vol. II, fol. 53 verso. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 5 verso. * These quotations are from Vol. I, Part I, fos. 5 ff. '' He refers to the story "of fayre Genevra," Vol. II, fol. 142. 46 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS land. Spenser, indeed, and The Faerie Queene influenced him in his plan. The prologues to the cantos of the great epic romance, its intricate background of minor episodes, and its crowded and often confused canvas clearly affected The Newe Metamorphosis. In addition, the great Elizabeth is called Gloriana,^ London, Troynovante,^ and England, glorious "Fayrie" land,^ is the favored playground of the sportive gods. Still J. M. knew too well his limitations as a poet to attempt to model a work to be read only once and then cast aside ^ after a poem which was written to "emu- late," perhaps to "overgo," Orlando Furioso, acclaimed by the Renaissance as the heir to the epic glory of Homer and Vergil. Our author was a soldier, a man of the camps, a soldier-adventurer, taking part in the sacking of Cadiz.^ He had in mind no subtle allegory, no colorful dream of chivalrous fairy knights. His plan, however, to connect his heterogeneous material was fairly ingenious and in harmony with the tone of his work. The first title-page shows that he intended to write only twelve books. But as years passed his material grew; his interests in a variety of affairs demanded expression; his lack of proportion, indeed of taste, led him always deeper into the Elizabethan quagmire of prolix digression, and, in consequence, his original frame for his work, always frail, broke under the strain. Eventually he frankly discarded his plan. This original frame of The Newe Metamorphosis opens on Olympus. The pleasure-loving gods have wearied of sopo- rific heavenly joys, and so they plan to seek a new field in 1 Example of this, Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8. ^ Example of this, Vol. I, Part I, fol. 52 verso. ' An example, Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8. * Vol. I, fol. 6. 5 Vol. II, Books VII, VIII. THE MANUSCRIPT 47 which to exercise their prerogatives. They decide to visit "Fayrie," the lovely land of great Gloriana. /. M. tells us: Olympick Gods, set on a merry pinne sake out a place themselves to solace in they Fayrie chose as fit'st for recreation the tyme accordinge for it was rogation Rogation weeke, when schoole boyes walke the bounds w*^ Pedagoge & Priest, & doltish Clownes May month it hight, the merry month of May when ech one w**^ his Love doth May-games play then into Faiery did the Gods discende whose pleasantnesse w^^ Tempe might contende w**^ Egipt Lords atire they them disguise and many tricks, & many means devise howe best they might the Faiery Nymphs beguile : Gobhns & Elves hving in that riche soyle.^ But Mercury proposed to the complaisant merrymakers that they should draw lots for a king or a queen for this adventure. Cupid is successful, but the war god objects "by rage & furie led." He exclaims: "And thinkest thou Cupid, th' apish God of Love shall have preheminence o're the Gods above thou fitter art to be the Pigmies Kinge or friskinge Crickets, to sitte still & singe in chymny corners: come let's chuse a newe an able Kinge to rule a lusty crewe I am afraid it ever should be said that we were subiecte unto a boy-mayde." Mercury, because of his rash advice, is consigned to be poor, to "consorte" with "yon aple-squire," and Cupid is de- clared a fit companion for "Maya's sonne." Hermes is ... to doe wonders thou (Cupid) to publish it he to deceive & slylie to beguile and thou to prate, & cogge & lye the while 1 Vol. I, Fart I, fol. 7. A8 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS had yo" a Punck fit to consorte yo" nowe & old Menander at this instant too were nowe ahve, oh here were heavenly worke the Punck & Love & Mercury to perke. Uppon a stage with comick cheatinge tricks w''^ would the eyes of the spectato" fixe and eke their eares unto attention drawe till on a sodaine (like unto a flawe after a sylent calme) laughter breakes forth to prove his worke to be of wondrous worth certes you two may well goe walke together it is greate pitty yo" should ever sever.^ The lusty Mars, the impetuous soldier, now calls for new lots. The gods, each hoping to gain Cupid's robbed honor, consent, for the poet writes: A sweete thing 'tis, to swaye th' imperiall mace that every one may stoope & give him place though it be mixte w*^ troubles manifold greate care him weares, that weares a crowne of gold the meane life is from greife the most exempt and fewer cares doe dwell where is contempt where is not much to loose is noe greater feere hono' & riches, loade a man w*^ care.^ Bacchus wins this contest, and he sends the two gods, Mercury and Cupid, who were "secluded from the elec- tion,"^ through "Faiery Lande" in order to give the Nymphs & Elves to understande that Egipts Kinge desyred much to see their nymble sports & fyne agillitie would they but daine to come unto his tents 1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 7 verso. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8. 3 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8. THE MANUSCRIPT 49 (His tents were pitcht neere Isis ^ silver streames where great Gloriana w*^ her radiant beames made the trees fruitful!, & the earth increase and rules her land in bounty, ioye & peace, Longe may she live & rule, that rules so well whose many vertues all her subiects tell & when from us she's taken to the skie oh let her there governe immortahe.^ The foolish inhabitants rush to the tents of the disguised gods; but fewe there were that knewe of Love the toile for Cupid never did Fays harte beguile nor tread a steppe till now in Faiery lahde here Gloriana did alone command ; and the mischievous Cupid boldly practices his wiles on both the gods and these "Fays." As Nymphs w*'^ Shepherds did together dance one gave a sigh, an other cast a glaunce & still they singe this burden to their songe Aye mee I love, aye me I love too longe such uncouth passion they n'ere felt before they therfore as mishaps did them deplore yet were they loath to lose their pleasinge payne in greatest losse they found a sweetninge gaine.^ With this happy and fanciful introduction to the holiday- loving gods and the innocent people of Fairyland, we are brought to the first stories — the passion of Bacchus, of Jove, and of Apollo, caused by Cupid, for mortal nymphs. Mars' arrogant conduct in the casting of the lots leads to many perplexing complications. Mercury, consigned to beggary and thievery, craves revenge,^ and Cupid, at first 1 Isis is the Thames. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 9. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8. * Vol. I, Part I, fol. 8 verso. 50 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS the wanton boy, drives in sport the gods to many new loves; but later when Mars, aided by the other gods, plots against the amorous Jove ^ who has forgotten the duties of Olympus and his cherished protege, the god of Love, then, Cupid with purpose and in order to defend himself, shoots his arrows at all the deities. Even aged Saturn,^ hoary and feeble, falls victim. Juno, however, escapes these machinations ' and goes to seek her erring spouse, whom she brings back to a desolate Olympus. Mars and his party make war on their lord,^ and for many days cannons roar, and both heaven and earth are laid waste. A parliament is finally called, and Cupid, much against the will of Jove, is banished for twelve years. But this sentence leads to further complications. Jupiter mourns for the playful boy. At his instigation Cupid shoots only "dull-pointed-Busbolts," so that all passion, both among gods and mortals, is quenched and to Venus sacrifice none had devotion. In spite of all remedies, noe man desyred once to touch liis wife whom formerly he lov'd as deerest life. Then swarmed not as nowe the bastard broode whom every towne is fainte to feed w**^ foode people still dyed, none borne them to supply.^ Finally the gods implore Jupiter to punish Cupid for his insolence. Jove refuses this request. He censures them for their past obstinacy when "None pleaded then for Love, but all cry'd out banish that bastard . . . " ^ and speaks at length concerning their presumptuous con- 1 Vol. I, Part I, Book III. * Vol. I, Part II, Book XII. * Vol. I, Part II, Book VII. ^ Vol. II, fol. 39 verso. 3 Vol. I, Part II, Book XI. « Vol. II, fol. 44. THE MANUSCRIPT 51 duct in questioning his rule.^ When he consents to recall Cupid, both mortals and gods are overjoyed,^ and the happy earth is again repeopled. Mars, however, still bears resentment. Driven by Cupid, he again leaves Olympus to woo a renegade nun. He not only wins this frail Adiana, but he also brings to a conclusion the principal frame of The Newe Metamorphosis. From this rivalry of the gods and the banishment of Cupid ^ unroll sometimes with only the slightest connection in the inconsequential manner of a lesser Ariosto, and again with a direct interruption, most of the tales of the first fifteen books of The Newe Metamorphosis. Jupiter may visit the filthy kerns ^ in Ireland, the Spanish Armada ^ may sail for England, the queen may visit the Thames in which the city gamins are noisily playing,^ still some tangible connection can be traced to the gods' visit to Fairyland and their contention for leadership. Often we have a frame within a frame; a new occasion will be presented for additional tales. Mercury, visiting Jupiter in order to urge him to aid Cupid, is asked to tell to the ruler of Olympus and his temporary mistress some stories; ^ later, as the exiled beggar, hungry and foot-sore, he meets Apollo to whom he relates his experiences in Rome, dilating on the sins of the Pope and his followers.^ Cupid, again, after his banishment, furnishes by his adventures 1 Vol. II, fol. 44. 2 Vol. II, fol. 46. 3 A banishment of Cupid was entered in the Stationers' Register by James Roberts, May 31, 1594. Cf. Arber, Vol. II, p. 308. This work may have suggested this plan. * Vol. I, Part I, Book III. 6 Vol. I, Part II, Book XII. 6 Vol. I, Part I, Book V. ■' Vol. I, Part I, Book III. 8 Vol. I, Part II, Book X. 52 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS among mortals, the material for several tales of cruel land- lords, of clownish boys, of a shameless pander,^ and of his own passion. To give another example of a frame within a frame, nine fair daughters of the Rhine, boasting of their superiority to the Muses, with a greedy advocate as judge, enter in a story-telling contest with the nine daughters of Jove, in this way giving us eighteen stories. It is true that the daughters of the Rhine return to the Cupid and Mars theme; but the Muses, on the other hand, in a most unmuse-like fashion, prattle unconventionally of inventions and civihzation, and also of witchcraft in Scotland, of fishermen in Kent, and of intrigues worthy of a place in Italian novelle} Indeed, the author himself, once with a loquacious neighbor ^ and again with no external assistance,^ breaks into the narrative and adds to the collection. In the second volume ^ J . M. practically abandons his original frame. He naively admits, after relating a tedious history of some rivers and their intriguing offspring, that this strange discourse did weary me to write. A friend, however, who has been absent for years, enters and readily consents to tell of his adventures in Egypt and elsewhere.^ The contention of Cupid and Mars is henceforth discarded. It is true that the metamorphosis idea persists, and the heavenly deities still figure occasion- ally in some of the stories; but the author now invents new framework as the occasion demands, often with a surprising evidence of originality and contagious humor. After this friend had finished his adventures with an attack against a mushroom "dapper squire" who had sold his timber in order to support his extravagances, another 1 Vol. II, Books I and II. ■> Vol. II, Part II, Book XI. 2 Vol. I, Books V and VI. ^ Vol. II, fos. 64 ff. » Vol. I, Part II, Book VII. ^ Vol. II, fos. 64 ff. THE MANUSCRIPT 53 companion, "that comes to visite me," ^ becomes the source of several tales which show J. M.'s powers at their best and which are linked by a happily executed, if daring plan, undoubtedly borrowed from the French.^ This visitor declares that neither the market nor the mill, as most men say, are the favored places for gossip, but "... where one in travaile fall There's secrets, newes & lyes, the divell and all more matters are broacht there a hundred fold and there more tales & nipping lyes are told." ' And so the reader is introduced to the bedside of a "Lady of greate note" who "in travaile fell," and into the society of a withered midwife and her garrulous neighbors. It is an hilarious, free-spoken company, eating and drinking by the bedside of the mother and her son, and the stories that are told make this an orgy of bestiality, relieved, it must be confessed, by that contagious vitality and exuberant de- light in life which soften sq,, much that is offensive in our early literature. /. M. also has visualized this scene with real skill in characterization and with an admirable verve. The links, especially, which connect the stories, show so much contagious gayety that the reader must regret that our author did not attempt more work of this character. J. M. himself furnishes the occasion for the stories fol- lowing the metamorphosis by Venus into butterflies of the most daring of these gossips. He has the "collick,"'* and, in consequence, visits the famous mineral springs of England 1 Vol. II, fol. 72. ^ This satire on women at childbirth can be found in Quinze Joyes de Mariage and in Middleton's A Chaste Maid in Cheapside, 1630, Act. II, Scene IV, f. In 1622 there appeared in France Les Caquets de I'Accouchee closely resembling this frame. 3 Vol. II, fol. 72 verso. * Vol. II, Book VI. 54 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS in order to find a remedy.^ As a result of his travels he adds several tales to The Newe Metamorphosis. An attack on an illiterate clergyman and on an old woman — and on quacks in general — who with one remedy kills many and cures very few, are the most interesting of these, because they contain many allusions to contemporary superstitions and manners which are of some interest and value to the student. When J. M. has visited the various springs and has returned to his home, all attempts at a plan are given up for a time. He frankly states at the beginning of Book VII that the reader will leave England and "survey" if other nations nought affourd us may of matter worth the notinge . . . ^ But after a story concerning a faithless husband, a visiting friend, as an auditor, is again made use of to continue this work. J. M. first tells to this companion three stories exemplifying the abuse of love, of fighting, and of gambling,^ and then he turns to a reahstic description of the Cadiz expedition,'* Whilest o' Eliza of blest memory did in this kingdome hold the soveraigntie, of which he had been an eyewitness, one of the many gay young nobles and reckless spirits who had flocked to the standards of Essex, Howard, Ralegh, and Vere. His friend is soon forgotten, and this assault on the power of Spain gives rise, in turn, to a new frame, and to many more tales, some of the happiest in the long collection. Chaucer's famous pilgrims undoubtedly suggested his 1 Drayton's Poly-Olbion, 1613-1622, also describes these springs. 2 Vol. II, fol. 111. 3 Vol. II, fos. 114 ff. * Vol. II, fos. 119 ff. THE MANUSCRIPT 55 new plan; in fact, J. M. mentions the Canterbury Tales} The reader is taken on board a ship returning to Plymouth, ^ filled with its motley crew and its Spanish plunder. The Shipmaster, ... a corpulent fatte Swadde a bon-companion, a right jovial lad unto the Captaine thus began to talke (a merry Mate, his tongue new oild did walks) ^ asking that each one should "some merrie storie tell." The taciturn Captain consents. Then judges are appointed, a prize offered, and the puritan Parson, who draws the shortest lot, is called on for the first story. The Shipmaster overflows with a rough but contagious bonhomie. He enrages the Parson with a rollicking tale of a drunken priest, Parson Darcie, who because he sometimes would "fly out for a purse "^ ended ingloriously by means of the hangman. Indeed, he interrupts the Parson's learned discourse on lots, on planting colonies, and on affairs of state, both so often and so rudely that a quarrel arises and peace is made only by means of the Captain. After some changes in the original plan, plainly shown by the addition of several characters and the insertion of many pages, ^ the "Surgion" throws down the gauntlet to the more respectable members of the party by declaring, "there is no woman but she false will play." ^ The Captain exclaims that is "a lewde conceite," and as a result of this divergence of views, many take sides and agree to relate incidents illustrating their viewpoint. Besides those previously mentioned, we have stories by the "Boteswayne," the "gunners Mate," a "Voluntarie 1 Vol. II, fol. 130. « Vol. II, fol. 132 verso. 2 Vol. II, fol. 129. 6 There are 27 pages numbered 284. 3 Vol. II, fol. 129. 6 Vol. II, fol. 138. 56 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Gent," a ''Gent;" the Steward, who twits and shocks them all, the Gunner, the "Masters Mate," the "Cooke," the "Apprentice of London" that ran away from his master, the "Drum," the "Clarke of the Bande," the "Purser," the "Trumpet," the "Liuetenante," and the "Anciente" who scarcely comes to the close of a romantic story of a noble maiden brought up by a forester, recalling in some of its incidents Fawnia ^ and her successors, when he cries: "... So, Ho, M' I have 'spied lande the best deserver, due rewarde commande that was y"" promise, 'fore we goe ashore let th' best deserver have rewarde therfore." ^ After some dissension, a judge is chosen, the M'' drewe the lot, he cald for 's chayre one made of cloth of gold, most riche, most fayre w*''^ he from Cadiz brought, there down he sate like a fat Abot, being made Pope of late a scarlet Spanish gowne he dons likewise w*^ drinking he made red his nose & eyes who putting on a face of gravetie seemed to give sentence w*''^ integritie.' This judge gave a "Pistolet" to the "Cooke," and all the company, although they "were displeased and began to frette," did likewise. Indeed, the quick return to England had prevented many from sharing in the contest. The author slyly adds that the Cook, who had told of an unscrupulous youth skilled in astronomy and medicine, ... hit the M' in the bawdy veyne he therefore thus did recompence his paine.'' The reader may marvel why many of the tales did not receive recognition if a "bawdy veyne" were a virtue to the Master. 1 Greene, Pandosto. ^ Vol. II, fol. 194. 2 Vol. II, fol. 192 verso. " Vol. II, fol. 194. THE MANUSCRIPT 57 J. M. evidently relished being one of this company, and we must regret that he is not openly one of the contestants. Possibly, he may have been the " Voluntarie Gent" or even the young gentleman who had joined the expedition. The last three books ^ of The Newe Metamorphosis are, as a whole, both more serious in tone and more bitterly ironical than the preceding. There is little attempt at any framework. J. M. commences Book X with the words: Unwillingly my sportful! muse forsakes her merry theme, & nowe a crosse course takes, ^ and he confesses his lack of "abillitie," that "the taske" he undertakes "is too great for me," and that a sportefuU humor I much better love then dire events w''^ mischeifes-broode doth move. The author then tells of the Roman Cathohc plots against James, "a glorious Sun," and . . . the Sol that warmes this Isle the Jove that doth it keepe from Papists spoile the Mars that fighteth to maintaine o'" seas the Mercury whose wit & wisdome shines w*'^ all true heartes, to him in love combines to speake divinely, Our true Israels lighte for whom Jehovah from above doth fight,* and after fprther eulogy, he writes of the Gunpowder Plot, . . . the foulest facte, ere acted out of Hell w*'^ to expresse, alas, I have no skill. ^ . . . the most abhorred acte was ever dreamed on, much lesse don in facte the Powder Treason, or The Divell in th' vault the Divells worke in Hell, you well may call't. 1 Vol. II, Books X, XI, XII. 3 Vol. II, fol. 197 verso. 2 Vol. II, fol. 194 verso. " Vol. II, fol. 199. 58 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS This is described with much historical accuracy, and the future punishment of Fawkes, Garnet, and the rest of "th' damned crue" is dilated on at great length. In fact, the author travels to hell in order to learn more of the execrated popes and their proteges. At the end of this book he writes, Nowe of the Catholique Church my leave I take for this whole booke, I've written for their sake.^ Throughout The Newe Metamorphosis there are constant attacks on the Roman Catholics, and Book X of the first volume consists mainly of a picture of the vices and profli- gacy of the "Roman crue," told by the exiled Mercury to Apollo. But J. M. had reserved his most bitter ridicule and virulent abuse for the instigators of the Gunpowder Plot and for the Jesuits. In the last two books of the manuscript there is again no attempt to connect what is written with the stories preceding. Here further invectives hurled at the Papacy, and certain favorite types, such as the usurer, the gull, and the drunk- ard, appear once more. The author is the speaker and he uses, in general, the tone of verse satire, English in atmos- phere and moral in purpose. He seems, in these books, to prefer some incident illustrating the folly or evil he assails. In Book XI he speaks of drunkenness, gluttony, and malice. In Book XII, after a long and tedious list of kings which reaches its climax in the conventional eulogy of James I, the death of the young Henry and the marriage of Princess Eliza, ^ events of importance to the hated Romanists, call forth rather fulsome expressions of sorrow and patriotic fervor. Indeed, the latter event, attracting curious throngs from all England, furnishes the occasion for an ironical picture of some of those who were present, among whom were 1 Vol. II, fol. 232 verso. ^ j^ 1Q12. THE MANUSCRIPT 59 a proper tall red bearded Gentleman, his name I thinke was gallant Captaine Swan. a captain in tyme of peace is like a Nun there living, where Religion is undon sometymes I see them walk in Paules in buffe w**^ great gold lace, all poynted, mary muffe! much like to Panderesses when their game is over our Captaines oft from Calais come to Dover. Captaine, onne tyme it was a noble name but nowe growne base, for they themselves defame by haunting Pickthach,^ White-fryers hot-houses," who lost his dinner because " a pigge came to the table," ^ a gallant Monsieur Roe, who made all effort to, ... be apparreled most sumptuously to weare his beavo'' hat he will not faile and in the same his huge great-Ostridge-tayle his crymsen satten dublet on he puts in w'^'^ he straitly did imprison'd guts but breeches had he none that might it suit. an hundred goodly Oakes he straitewayes sold his scarlet breeches to lace thick w*'^ gold so thicke the scarlet yo" could scarcely spie Oh brave breeche-case, adorned gorgeoushe the man in court yo*^ knowe is not regarded good clothes there are sildome tymes discarded let th' man be bad, so be his cloathes be brave nay though he be an obscene filthy knave he shall have entrance & be much respected when vertuous men in poore clothes are neglected; * 1 Evidently Pickt-hatch, the quarter of London celebrated for thieves and prostitutes to which Shakspere refers in Merry Wives, 11, 2, 19. 2 Vol. II, fos. 256 ff. 3 Vol. II, fol. 257 verso. 60 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS the gorgeous lady who ruined her husband in order to dazzle the court; ^ and also the courtesan, the usurer, and several others. In these pictures, vigorous and coarsely graphic, we find the influence of the work of Donne, Hall, Marston, and the contemporary satirists. The three last books, indeed, are more closely allied to the school of conscious satire. There is little attempt at story-telling, but rather an effort to arraign vice. We see how in the course of the many years spent in composition the original plan of The Newe Metamorphosis suffered alteration and in time was frankly discarded. The author at first undoubtedly intended to give to a not too discriminating public a series of stories modeled more or less freely after Ovid. For these he invented, or possibly borrowed, the frame of an exiled Cupid taking revenge on the gods. When he tired of this, or when, as it is probable, his work had outgrown so frail a frame, he planned anew, with conspicuous success in two instances, his background for the bedside stories and those told on the return from Cadiz. But his many interests, and also an unflagging zeal and amazing facility in narration tended to obscure the main action of his work by compHcated and quickly changing episodes and long digressions. He frankly aban- doned both frame and theme when either hampered him in his narrative or when he was roused by what he feared was sapping the manhood of his countrymen. As a result the work suffers in many ways. It is rambling and diffuse, but it assuredly gains from its very faults a vigorous and attractive spontaneity. The question may now rise — and it would be most natural — whether the author of The Newe Metamorphosis in its nearly one thousand closely written pages and consider- ably more than thirty thousand fines does not furnish some 1 Vol. II, fol. 257 verso. THE MANUSCRIPT 61 interesting and possibly important information concerning his contemporaries. It has ah-eady been stated that the chief value of the manuscript lies in its many allusions to manners and fashions, to its pictures of gulls, of gamblers, of drunkards, and to social and economic conditions in general. It also is of some significance to the student of history; for the Cadiz adventure is told by an eyewitness, and the Gunpowder Plot is dilated on at length by one who seems intimately affected. Then it must always be kept in mind that J. M. is a teller of stories of no mean ability. But, on the other hand, The Newe Metamorphosis adds nothing to our knowledge concerning those giants in letters and affairs who made the reign of Elizabeth and her suc- cessor radiant. We have seen how the author refers with careful accuracy to Stow, Speed, Purchas, and other con- temporary writers of chronicles, travels, or reUgious works when by so doing he may gain authority and a reputation of learning; but to the field of belles-lettres he shows much of the characteristic reticence of his age. He speaks of his greatest contemporary in one careless line, it seems 'tis true that W. S. said,^ and he undoubtedly had Venus and Adonis in mind, since he parallels it with some closeness in one of his stories.^ To Spenser he gives more honor. He writes of . , . noble Spenser nowe of fairest fame whose glorious workes immortalize his name,' and, as we have seen, he has borrowed many suggestions 1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 51 verso. Miss Toulmin-Smith claims this refers to Shakspere because of the scansion as well as the initials. Cf. Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. I, p. 89. Waldron had assigned this to Shakspere in a marginal note. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 63 ff. 3 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 91. 62 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS from The Faerie Queene} Chaucer is spoken of several times,^ once, indeed, in a contemptuous manner when the author classes the Canterbury Tales and other "fables" of "fayned miracles" with the Golden Legends, Vitas Pa- trium, Gesta Romanorum, all "Lyes made to blynde the simple ignorant."^ He makes happy mention of . . . kynde Kit Marlowe, if death not prevent-him, shall write her story, love such art hath lent-him,* and a certain flower, Starlight, cald for noble Sidney's sake Sidney the flower of matchlesse poesie who doubts thereof to mende it let him try the Poets glory & the soldiers pride who with blest soules in heaven doth nowe abide, ^ calls forth a eulogy of the author of Arcadia. Indeed, J. M. shows the influence of Sidney in many ways. He places one of his stories in Arcadia,^ and in a list of friends he mentions conspicuously Pyrocles and Musidorus. Another time, in speaking of poets, he enumerates several of his predecessors and contemporaries. Unfortunately, he pos- sessed neither the abihty nor the fineness of taste of Drayton, otherwise he might have given the reader another Epistle to Reynolds.'' He writes: Surrey & Sidney, hono"" of o'' age were both of them of noble parentage yet not their hono"" makes them live so longe as doth their poems & learned pleasinge songe 1 Cf. Chap. I, pp. 39 ff. 2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 62 verso, 90 verso; Vol. II, fos. 130, 230 verso. 3 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 62 verso. * Vol. I, Part I, fol. 39 verso, J. M. is speaking of Hero. « Vol. I, Part I, fol. 57 verso. e Vol. II, Book II. ' Drayton, Epistle to Henry Reynolds, Esquire. THE MANUSCRIPT 63 before their time S'" Jeffr'y Chaucer he the first hfe giver to o'' poesie Phaer & Twyne, Harvy, Gaskoyne, Goldinge Lydgate, Skelton, Grange, Googe & Fleminge Warner & Watson, France, Churchyarde, Whetston Monday, Lilly, Britton, Danyell, Draiton Chapman & Jonson, Withers auncient Tusser w[i]th the divine soule-pleasinge Silvester and noble Spencer . . . He continues by saying that these help . . . the world t' adorne w[i]thout the wpii]ch, men live like folk forlorne though these doe labour much their curious lynes wChi]ch art unto invention well combines and take much paines their Readers to delighte.^ In spite of the author's garruhty and the years spent in the composition of The Newe Metamorphosis, these few scattered lines give the only mention of the outstanding Uterary figures of his time. This indifference, as it seems to the reader, would be inexphcable if it were not so typical of the period. J. M.'s chief concern is to dazzle his audience with his wealth of unusual knowledge, with his quaint folklore and worldly wisdom. He sees no reason why there should be an interest in the men of his day. J. M.'s references to the theater are even more scanty and unsatisfactory than these tributes to his predecessors and contemporaries. In the Prologue, he speaks of the "publique stage," of those who "fawne, flatter & dissemble," and resemble most "theatrians."^ A little later in a shrewd bit of observation he writes: Uppon a stage w*^ comick cheating tricks Tfir^^ would the eyes of the spectato'"^ fixe 1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 90 verso ff. = Vol. I, fol. 5 verso. 64 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS and eke their eares unto attention drawe tell on a sodaine (like unto a flawe after a sylent calme) laughter breakes forth to prove his worke to be of wondrous worth. ^ Again we hear of a gull who mispronounces his words and squanders his money at the "Curtaine," of a spendthrift gambler who ... at the Playhouse he tooke cheifest roomes and then did take on him the gentleman,^ and of the ''painted Players" who had not lived "twenty yeare" and in spite of their youth showed consummate abihty in their profession. These references are brief; they consist usually of only a few hastily written verses, but they at least make clear that the author was familiar with the life of London and had an intimate knowledge of the stage. After this survey of The Newe Metamorphosis, it can be said briefly in conclusion that this manuscript was written between the years 1600-1615; that it consists of a hetero- genous collection of stories, written to appeal to the popular fancy, stories, however, interspersed with much satire and frequent digressions concerning subjects of interest to the author; that the author provided an ingenious, if fanciful, framework for his material which he eventually discarded, inventing new frames as the occasion demanded; and that the value of the work lies in its popular appeal, in its genuine power in narration, and in its allusions to contemporary fashions and life. 1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 7 verso. 2 Vol. II, fol. 117. CHAPTER II CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE MANUSCRIPT The diffuseness and great length of The Newe Metamor- phosis undoubtedly deterred from closer scrutiny those students of English literature whose attention had been attracted to it. The critical history of the manuscript is brief; it is of importance, however, when the question of authorship is considered, for various conjectures have been made by those who have examined this work, concerning the identity of the author, Francis Godolphin Waldron,i writer, actor, manager of theaters, and antiquarian, had this manuscript ^ in his possession. Possibly he intended to edit some parts of it. He has made frequent marginal notes in pencil, some of which are of interest, because of his knowledge of sixteenth- century manuscripts. Indeed, I can safely say that these notes and not the manuscript furnish the grounds for many of the statements of later scholars. Waldron has written Siiihesideoi J. M., gent.: "Que?^ — John Marston, Jervase Markham, James Martin, John Mason," evidently with the purpose of ascertaining the author. Joseph Haslewood,^ an insatiable collector of fugitive tracts and one of the founders and the early historian of the ' 1744-1818. Cf. Dictionary Nat. Biog. He was both editor and bookseller. He issued in 1792 The Literary Museum, or Ancient and Modern Repository, a volume of some antiquarian importance, and the Shakspearean Miscellany (London 1802), a collection of scarce tracts. 2 His initials, F. W. G., are found in Vol. I, Part I, fol. 11; Vol. II, fol. 234. 3 Page 1, Book I. * 1769-1833. 65 66 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Roxburghe Club, follows Waldron in an interest in The Newe Metamorphosis. In his edition of Barnabee's Journal,^ he established, to his satisfaction, the authorship. He quotes some lines from the manuscript describing Giggles- wick Spring in Yorkshire,^ and states dogmatically that the author is John Marston.^ And John Marston, the J. M. of the greatest prominence and interest at the time the manuscript was written, overshadowed for the remaining years of the century all other claimants. The authorities of the British Museum purchased the manuscript in 1844 from Payne and Fosse.* In their Sale Catalogue for 1843 under Manuscripts is the following de- scription: "No: 230. The Newe Metamorphosis, or A Feaste of Fancie, or Poeticall Legendes, written by J. M. gent. in 3 vol. Very neatly written, in the original vellum bind- ing. £15. 15s. 4to. ''These volumes formerly belonged to Waldron, who has made many marginal notes. He conjectures the author's name to be either John Marston, Gervase Markham, or John Mason, but the author himself says. My name is French, to tell you in a word. Yet came not in with conquering William's sword. "It is doubtless the original autograph of a very curious 1 First vol., 1817-1818; 2d vol., 1820. ^ Vol. II, folio 95 verso. Yorke-shyre. "At Gigaleswick, there many springes doe rise that ebb & flowe in strange & wondrous wise when 'tis at highest, 'tis nyne ynches deepe at ebbe it doth but one ynche water keepe it ebbes & flowes, ech quarter of an houre." ' Lowndes in his Bibliographer's Manual of English Literature also ascribes the poem as doubtful to Marston. He cites Haslewood. * Vol. I, No. 14,824, has on the flyleaf, "Purchased of Payne and Foss, 1844. (3 vols.)." CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE MANUSCRIPT 67 poem. The title page is dated 1600; but a passage in Vol. I, p. 215, shows that that part was not written until after the death of Prince Henry in 1612." Mr. J. O. Halliwell-Philhpps, while he was editing the works of Marston, was the next to mention this "long, rambling poem." He doubts that it is Marston's, although "parts of it resemble in some degree his style." ^ The statement that the author's name is French, Mr. Halhwell- Philhpps declares, is a "condition inapplicable to that of Marston." ^ The Reverend Alexander B. Grosart ^ in his life of Marston wonders if the poet had a prior love in "his earlier and past days." Because of the "dainty and gracious verse-address * To his Mistress' ' ' in The Metamorphosis of Pigmalion's Image, and also because of the references to her in the poem itself,^ he says that "if other things were equal, I should have 1 Works of John Marston, 1856, 3 vols., edited by J. O. Halliwell, Vol. I, p. xix. 2 Halliwell-Phillipps, in his Life of Shakespere, 1848, p. 148, note, quotes a few lines from The Newe Meta?norphosis, Vol. II, fol. 46, con- cerning boy players. This passage had been clearly marked by Wal- dron. "But howesoer men may a while dissemble their spightfuU stomacks, they therein resemble but painted Players, trembling on the stage w*''^ beard & perywigge made fit for age who have not scarcely liv'd out twenty yeare as they I say doe loade w*'^ age appeare and yet are boyes when those are t'ane away." It is interesting to compare these lines with the epitaph which Ben Jonson wrote at the death of Salathiel Pavy, a child of Queen Eliza- beth's chapel, who although he died at the age of thirteen "yet three filled zodiacs had he been the stage's jewel." ' The Poems of John Marston (1598-1601), edited by Rev. Alexander B. Grosart, 1879, in Occasional Issues, Vol. XI, p. xxv, note. * The Metamorphosis of Pigmalions Image, pp. 7, 14. 68 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS supposed the MS. poem in the British Museum, entitled The Newe Metamorphosis, or a Feaste of Fancie, and An Iliad of Metamorphosis or the Arraignment of Vice, written by J. M. gent., to be the production of Marston in fulfill- ment of his semi-promise 'to his Mistress.' But there are difficulties external and internal in assigning these MSS. to him." But Mr. Grosart does not make clear what these difficulties are. Mr. Bullen ^ was the next to mention this manuscript. He confesses that he has only "a superficial acquaintance with this poem," pleading its great length as his excuse. Like Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps, he declares that Marston's name is not "French," and further he states it is a "good old Shropshire name." He appreciates the importance of the poem, saying it is a "fine field for an editor; virgin soil, I warrant." Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith, an earnest scholar, was the last who examined the poem. She states that it is full of allusion "to the passing history and manners of those days" (Shakspere's).^ She gives some of the introductory argu- 1 The Works of John Marston, A. H. Bullen, 3 vols, 1887. Cf . Vol. I, pp. liv-lvi. 2 Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. I, p. 89; Vol. II, pp. 480-488. Miss L. Toulmin-Smith, in claiming that certain lines refer to Shakspere, has followed a note made by Waldron. "who hath a lovinge wife & loves her not he is no better then a witlesse sotte let such have wives to recompense their merite even Menelaus forked face inherite. Is love in wives good, not in husbands too why doe men sweare they love then, when they wooe? it seems 'tis true that W. S. said when once he heard one courting of a Mayde Believe not thou Mens fayned flatteryes, Lovers will tell a bushell-full of Lyes." Cf. The Newe Metamorphosis, Vol. I, Part II, fol. 51 verso. CRITICAL HISTORY OF THE MANUSCRIPT 69 ments of the various books, makes hasty mention of one or two of the tales, and decides that it may be doubted that either Marston or Markham could be the author. Her reasons for this statement are few and not conclusive. As both Marston and Markham had written before 1600, Miss Toulmin-Smith claims that neither of them would speak of his "infante Muse,"^ and that Markham "of whom it is said 'his thefts were innumerable' is surely excluded by the declaration, — ' to filchinge lynes I am a deadly foe.' " Miss Toulmin-Smith closes the hst of commentators on The Newe Metamorphosis. The author has remained un- known. In the following chapter I shall try to point out those passages in the manuscript in which J. M. is auto- biographical or in which he clearly shows his tastes and characteristics. In this way the identity of J. M. gent may be estabhshed. ^ Vol. I, fol. 5, Prologue. "Myne infante Muse, longe studieng what to wright at first resolv'd some bloody warres t'endighte." CHAPTER III J. M. GENT In a manuscript of the great length of The Newe Meta- morphosis, covering in time of composition so many years, it would seem that the most self-effacing of authors, even in a period in which authorship was not highly valued, would unmistakably betray his identity. This statement would seem especially true of a work of the rambUng nature of the manuscript under consideration. But J. M. is not vainglorious; he labors under no delusion that he has produced something of exceptional merit. In his Prologue, when he writes that bookes of this nature being once perused are then cast by,^ he makes evident of how shght value he holds the pages to follow. He often complains with apparent sincerity that he has "noe Poets pleasmg smoth-fyl'd veyne,"^ that this "taske is too greate for me,"^ and that his "arte" is "both rough & rude."^ On the other hand, his narration of the "Powder Treason," he writes, . . . shall endure then stone or brasse of that I am full sure so longe as this fayre He shall traded be these Unes shall last even to eternitie.* The cause for this fame, however, arises not from the excel- lencies of his work, but from the abhorrence and terror occasioned by this conspiracy among his contemporaries 1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 6. ^ Vol. II, fol. 194 verso. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 6. ^ Vol. II, fol. 199 verso. 6 Vol. II, fol. 199 verso. 70 J. M. GENT 71 and their descendants; and, further, the author tells "a, story not of fiction no we," having "put on th' Historians graver gowne." This apparent modesty, especially in the author's time, is often conventional and feigned; but /. M.'s many pro- testations of lack of merit, culminating at the end of the work in the assertion, Some more accurate will shortly tread the pathe My rougher Muse already beaten hath my leave I here of Poetrie doe take,^ smacks more of honesty than the elaborate "Oblivioni Sacrum" of many of his contemporaries. But the author of The Newe Metamorphosis had Uttle intention of remaining anonymous. Whatever fame or recompense should accrue from his work, he stood prepared to claim. His title-page says Written by J. M. gent, and a few pages later below The Epistle dedicatorie, having no connection with what has preceded or with what follows, and evidently jotted down as an afterthought or because of some transient impulse, comes the couplet which has caused so much confusion to the few who have inspected the manuscript, My name is Frenche to tell you in a worde but came not in w*^ conqueringe Williams sworde. And undoubtedly his curious readers, if the poem had been given to the public, would have had little difficulty in rec- ognizing who had presented to the world this "Feast of Fancie" and "Arraignment of Vice^ For even in a day when authorship was none too rare, and greedy publishers were tempting the pleasure-bent Elizabethan with a fare not always nice, if of infinite and highly spiced variety, a J. M. gent, whose name was ''Frenche," capable of writing 1 Vol. II, fol. 268. 72 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS a work of such amazing length, which shows the author a man of wide reading and of extended travel, a hnguist and a keen observer of his fellow men, would have been readily known. He did not shun recogniL .n. But J. M., even in the course of his stories, frequently takes us into his confidence; he tells the reader an inter- esting and illuminating bit of personal history. Again, he shows a penchant, at times a passion, often wearisome and frequently incongruous, for labored and prosaic explanations, for certain pursuits and avocations, and for homely maxims; indeed, in many significant ways he aids unconsciously in his identification. I shall point out the most character- istic of these. J. M. gent, informs us that he has been a soldier, serving in various campaigns and in several lands with the English forces. Indeed, he is most realistic in his pictures of the swaggering man of arms,^ of the martial wooer, and of the captain on leave in the London inns. In one of his auto- biographical digressions ^ he makes evident his own impul- sive ardor and his ready acceptance of the use of arms for redress, in his challenge to a traducer to fight a duel on the sands of Calais. These references to the profession of arms are constantly recurring. They are not the conventional borrowings from Italian novelle and other popular sources, found so often in the contemporary drama and hterature, but they are portraits and incidents pictured by one who has served in camps. J. M. writes in one place that Yo" Martialists turne wanton oftentymes leaving the warres you study wanton rymes and turne ranke Poets, . . . ' 1 Examples of his reference to soldiers and martial exploits are Vol. I, Part n, fos. 42, 112; 128; Vol. II, fol. 49. 2 Cf. Chap. I, p. 6. 3 Vol. II, fol. 49. J. M. GENT 73 and that he, a soldier, has written these "rough hewen lynes" ^ of the manuscript, because he has been inspired with love. Again, in his own narration of the Cadiz expedition, whilst o"" Eliza of blest memory did in this kingdoms hold the soveraigntie,^ there is even more positive and rehable confirmation of the author having followed the profession of arms. After remarking, I'le tell the what I in my travaille sawe,^ he embarks on a vigorous description in the first person of that famous attempt to cripple Spain, when not only ''Essex and Howard both Liuetenants were," but also Ralegh, the fighter Vere, and a galaxy of Elizabethan soldiers, cour- tiers, and adventurers formed a company distinguished in its brilliancy and bitter in its rivalries. /. M. not only tells of the number of ships sailing from Plymouth, "the first of June," of the "fower & twenty saile" brought by "th' United States," the ally of England for many years, of the bitter fight in the treacherous harbor of Cadiz; but he also describes how Essex with a small force lands "under the Blockhouse," and he finally quotes his "welcome saying" to the soldiers, using the first person: The spoile & sacking nowe of Cadiz towne (whose haughty stomacks are already downs) let be the Captaines mssde, the Soldiers pay for that y' have bravely done like men this day except alone those clothes the Spaniards weare w"*^ to lay hold on see yo" doe forbeare. Nowe swarme the Enghsh & the Duch likewise into the houses, (even as thicke as flyes in somers even after a raynie storme forshewing still the weather wilbe warme) 1 Vol. II, fol. 13 verso. ^ Vol. II, fol. 119. ^ Vol. II, fol. 118 verao. 74 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Then Gold & silver did we pill & sacke loaden w*^ treasure cast it on o"" backe we ran abourd & straite returd againe in house no roome was by us searcht in vaine were th' Owners by, we askt not for the keyes but all flewe open as us best did please doors, lids of chists, cupbourds & cabbinets the Spaniards freely paid us all their debts here found we BulUon, there Rials of eighte here w*^ gold Ducats we o"" pockets freighte.^ The author, also an eyewitness, tells of the bxirning of a large part of the Spanish fleet by its admiral, Medina, in order to save the ships from falling into the conqueror's hands : the Duke of Medina, he did then comand that they the whole fleete then should sacrifice to angrie Vulcan, I sawe't iv^^ myne eyes, then the thicke clouds of stincking foggie smoake did maijy a Spaniard on the hatches choake howe the base slaves like paddocks flewe in th' aire when th' fyre & powder kist (oh loving payre). ^ He also relates how in th' Bishops Palace & the Nunarie some goods were found : bookes in the Library were valued at full out a thousand markes w"^ we brought home for o' learnd English Clarkes. ^ And later we hear of how Faro we tooke & Lotha burnt w*^** fyre, * and of the homeward voyage in triumph to England. 1 Vol. II, fos. 119 ff. 3 Vol. II, fol. 122 verso. 2 Vol. II, fol. 121 verso. * Vol. II, fol. 128. J. M. GENT 75 The author's pride in the EngKsh soldier and his ardent patriotism shine forth in the words he makes Medina, the Spanish leader, speak in spite of his defeat. He exclaims: They beate us once (quoth he) on th' English coast nowe on o"" owne they have us sore rib-roast let never Spaine w**^ England medle more for if we doe, 't will make o'' Master poore I'le rather goe to warre against the Turck & w**^ lesse danger thinke to make fayre work. w*^ English Marsis ^ I no more will deale who in most neede their valo"^ not conceale but by the Kinges beard he's a noble foe that ransomeless did let so many goe they are indeede true Noble spirits sure since where they conquered th' are so honest pure that noe one rape was by them here comitted ^ nor noe foule fault for w"** they can be twitted an honorable friende he sure would prove that being a foe expresseth so his love I cannot thinke but vertue is the cause they deale so justly, not restrained by lawes for Victors thus to curbe the rage of lust from very Justice needes p[re]ceede it must the EngUsh Armie's like a Comon weale where w**^ uprightnes every man doth deale.' And so from the preceding excerpts /. M. shows that not only is he a gentleman with a French name, but also a soldier, fond of the profession of arms, rejoicing in feats of 1 Probably derived from Mars and used because of the valor of the EngUsh. 2 Ralegh in an undated letter writes that the English "spared all" at Cadiz, but that the " Flemmings " were cruel and hard. Cf. Steb- bings' Life of Ralegh. 3 Vol. II, fol. 123. 76 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS valor, exulting in the courage of his countrymen, and even reveling in the sacking and pillaging of the vanquished.^ But Spain was not the only land J. M. had visited as a soldier. The Newe Metamorphosis abounds with references to Ireland and especially to Connaught; references which show an intimate knowledge of the country and a deep interest in its social problems. We not only read of the bawd following the camp in Ireland,^ of the numerous plots instigated there by the Romanists to undermine Elizabeth's power,^ of the crafty Jesuits who, he prays, . . . were all to Ireland confyned,* of Irish history with its legendary five kings and their realms, of "that dangerous narrow maine"^ and "roughness of the sea," with its "rocks and shelves,"^ separating Eng- land and Ireland, of the witches frequenting its "moory" lakes,^ but we are also told of the rude Irish kerns, * fraught w*^ all vice, repleate w*** villanye they still rebell & that most trecherously like brutish Indians, these wylde Irish live their quiet neighboures they delight to greive cruell & bloody, barbarous & rude dire vengeance at the heles hath them pursude they are the salvagest of all the nation amongst them once / made my ■pe\_ri]grination} 1 Sir Robert Naunton in his Fragmentia Regalia, Arber's Garner, Vol. Vn, p. 89, says that the men had "great greediness of spoil." 2 Vol. n, fol. 107 verso. ^ Vol. II, fos. 35 flf. ^ Vol. II, fol. 222. 5 Vol. II, fol. 107 verso. « Vol. II, fol. 136 verso. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 76 verso. » Vol. I, Part I, fol. 21 verso. Spenser in A View of the Present Slate of Ireland has Irenaeus say: the " kearns " are thieves, murderers, swearers, who are wild, cruel and licentious. Cf. Spenser's Works, Globe edition, p. 640. J. M. GENT 77 He writes again : These Kernes were salvage people, wylde & rude they best esteemed, that most their hands imbrueed in blood of others; they no lawe obeyd nor were of any punishment afraide what any lusted, that he held for lawe others intents, they not regarde a strawe all kynde of synnes they dayly practiz'd there villaines to them resorted farre & neare they multiplyed for their immunitye the lewdest persons love impunitye that devilish vice of Luste was comon there in open streetes to acte it none do feare sinnes most unnaturall & horible to tell that had beginnings from the Prince of Hell man there w**^ man, nay worser, man w*^ beasts thus they obeyd God Plutos blacke beheasts.^ And later he tells the reader the men from Connaught with their ''shagged haire"^ are "more salvage"^ than men of other lands, and that The Irelanders, are salvage ignorant brutish & cruell every man will grant in contracts fraudelent, to theft inclynde what e're they say, yo** nere shall knowe their mynde to superstition very much addicted therefore w**^ war & strange disease afflicted.'* But it is Connaught that is conspicuously and intimately mentioned by J. M. Two of the stories of The Newe Meta- morphosis take place here,^ Erno lake, near Galway, is 1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 20. = Vol. I, Part I, fol. 35 verso. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 35. " Vol. I, Part II, fos. 58 ff. * Vol. I, Part I, fos. 25 ff., Apollo carries his mistress to Connaught; Vol. I, Part I, fos. 34 verso ff., the king of Connaught weds Chryses, a^Grecian maiden. 78 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS twice spoken of/ and the kerns, among whom the author once "made my pe[ri]grination," - are of Connaught. And though these people are both bestial and treacherous, Apollo tells Clavina, whom he carries from England, that in "the kingdome of Connaughta" "... No hissinge serpent doth 'bide noe toade, nor spider, adder, nor yet snake noe stinginge venom 'd thinge may there pCer^take the sweetes & pleasures of that happie soyle there they doe hve w[i]thout or care or toyle they neither plant, nor sowe, nor till the ground nor w**^ a hedge their owne encompasse rounde all thinges are common, there they nothing wante they feele no penurie or pynchinge scante." ^ This Utopian picture of the land of the rude kerns scarcely is in keeping with what the author has spoken at other times of Ireland and its inhabitants. But at heart he loves this country. Like his . . . noble Spencer nowe of fairest fame,** the beautiful island beckons to him in spite of its constant murmurings of discontent and active rebellion, and he even had planned to make his permanent home in "that riche lande." With much playful fancy he tells us of "Gallaway," the leading town of Connaught. Clavina had won all the kingdom with Apollo's aid by a clever trick, and then She built a city to her lasting fame and it Clavinia called by her name w"^ tyme hath changed & the citie too strange unexpected thinges, this Tyme will doe 1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 21, 27. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fol. 21 verso. 3 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 25 ff. * Vol. I, Part II, fol. 91. Colin Clout Comes Home Again gives a delightful picture of Spenser in Ireland. J. M. GENT 79 Galiva now they call't, we Gallaway Clavinas name's forgotten many a daye it Gan-away mee thiiikes would better sound but reason oft is w*^ longe custome drownd after the old shape it doth still remaine the buildings, tower like it doth still reteyne they were Clavinians called here to fore nowe Gallawayes (I thinke) for ever more.^ J. M.'s interest in Ireland and personal knowledge of that country led him to make it a large part of the Parson's discourse in a story-telling contest on the trip home from Cadiz. The Parson was a man of serious and devout mind; indeed, the boisterous Shipsmaster calls him a "Puritan." He feels ill. at ease among the mirth-loving party lounging on the deck, and when he draws the first lot, after much hearty badinage on the part of the master of ceremonies, he proceeds to discuss the commonwealth and the planting of colonies. Of Ireland he speaks gravely and with author- ity. He strongly disapproves of the Virginia attempt at colonization, but in Ireland he knows many "... honest & vertuous that there abide, many religious the greater p[ar]te though are of people base noe furtherers of vertue in any case but that it is a noble business I not deny, but freely doe confesse for every day men even of qualitie & of good rank goe thither for supply. as th' place is rich if that it were secure my self to live there I could well Indur.^ And for o"" people that to Ireland goe that enterprise I doe allowe also 1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 27 verso. ^ This couplet is written in the margin, presumably later, and with different ink. 80 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS for them & us it can not be but good & certainly it might have sav'd much blood if it had bin attempted longe agone And so I say I not mislike a whitte our Irish busines & the planting it but this in them I mislike utterly that they run over nowe so frequently who are in debt & danger unto others thereby undoeing often tymes their brothers fathers & mothers, children, friends & foes forgetting credite over straite he goes to th' credito''^ most great wronge & undoeing nought can restreine them but they still are goeing ech day & houre, nor roughnes of the sea nor rocks & shelves can cause them here to stay that Banckrouts & such base shifting knaves should thither packe & dance on Neptunes waves & there mispende what they from others steale it is iniustice me thincks every deale and fit it were, some wholesome lawes were made them to restreine from their so coosininge trade they better doe deserve to dye therfore then pilfering theives who steale for they are poore w°^ take a sheepe, a hogge, a cowe, a horse through biting neede, being driven to 't by force. Neede eateth through stone walles the proverb saith but this their packing openly bewraith . . . But many good & godly men I hope are tliither gon w*^'^ never love the Pope nor did their credito'''' in that wise abuse but for good reasons to dwell there do chuse many of good note & right civill men where goes one such I wish that there were ten divines & laymen many I doe knowe reUgious, honest, w"'^ doe tliither goe J. M. GENT 81 some wanting meanes in their owne Native land Some there to preache, to governe & comand and many of deserts who hope thereby for them & theirs to get a competencie." ^ I have quoted the Parson's words at length, for what he tells us is interesting historically. He shows a sincere interest in Ireland and an intimate acquaintance with its problems. The author, also, may have used him, the digni- fied and serious member of the ship's company, for his mouthpiece. And so we can safely conclude from this active and large interest of J. M. in Ireland, especially in Galway and Con- naught, and from the authority of the words spoken by the author in his own person that he, the soldier poet, had visited and served among the rude "salvage" kerns by Erno Lake. He had followed his standard in Spain; he had fought in Ireland. /. M. not only visited Spain and Ireland; he also seems to know Flanders and the Enghsh camps stationed in that country. France is mentioned only casually; Italy and Rome ^ are arraigned as the home of the Pope, and as a sink of iniquity; but the ''Flemish camps" and the "Lowe- countrie" are spoken of familiarly as if by one who had been a member of the Enghsh force sent to fight Spain in the Netherlands. Service under the great Vere was popular in the last decade of the sixteenth century. J. M. speaks of "beast-like-swilling" of the "Duch- men."^ He tells us that "they true drunkards are," and in religion all kynde of sects & errors they will prove. 1 Vol. II, fos. 135 verso ff. 2 Vol. I, Part II, Book X. » Vol. I, Part II, fol. 58 verso. 82 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS In speaking of the lottery, we read, the States of Flanders doe the same allowe.^ In another place a betrayed husband searches for his erring wife "in the Lowe Countries," for he thought she had bin following the campe.^ Consequently, Dort, Hage, Ostende, & Amsterdam he sought. but only to continue his quest "amongst the puncks" in London and then among the soldiers in Ireland. In another place, he tells us that the tomb of the proud woman who had offended Latona is "neere unto Hage" and "w[i]thin the Monestary of St. Barnarde." Indeed we can see the pictures of the offending ones "upon the tomb," if we doubt him who knows the story to be true and who has seen this place, ^ near which "lyes th' English & Flemish campes."'* This story, it is true, causes mirth and vulgar scurrihty among the listeners, and there is much giddy and obscene repartee in which the Flemish army camps and the soldiers there stationed figm-e as principals.^ The author, however, does not seem to speak of these matters from report, but as an eyewitness and a participant. And so, though Flanders and the Netherlands do not play so conspicuous a part in the pages of the poem as either Spain or Ireland, and although the personal reference to these countries is more incidental and in the spirit of jest, still because we know that J. M. had served in Spain and the evidence is conclusive that he had been in Ireland, we may assume with reasonable certainty that he was also near "the Hage" and one of those Enghsh fighting under the greatest captain of those stirring times. Sir Francis 1 Vol. II, fol. 134. » Vol. II, fol. 84 verso. 2 Vol. II, fol. 107 verso. " Vol. II, fol. 85. 6 Vol. II, fos. 85 ff. J. M. GENT 83 Vere.^ It was the fashion for the gallant, plumed young courtiers to serve a campaign under this leader.^ J. M., however, was not only a soldier campaigning in Spain, Ireland, and Flanders, using his experience for his work, but he was also a sincere opponent of the strong Roman Catholic party in England and a bigoted enemy of the Papacy. He feared with many of his contemporaries the almost open efforts of those of his country who were Roman- ists to advance the interests of their faith. He himself was a man of strong religious convictions and of a simple piety. Indeed, he sjrmpathized with many of the tenets of the so-called Puritans.^ The bigoted "Precisian," with his grotesque mannerisms and attitudinizing, was an attractive figure during this period to poke fun at and, indeed, until the stern necessity of the Civil War taught the graceful cavaliers that their stage MulHgrubs,* Tribulation Wholesomes,^ and Zeal-of the-Land Busys ^ were not at all times canting, whining hypocrites, but brave soldiers and earnest patriots. J. M. may have been a soldier-adventurer and a lover of loose tales smacking of the camp or the tavern, but he was also a militant Christian, sincere in his faith. He paid devout and simple homage to his God, defending the sanctity of the Sabbath and the purity of his faith; consequently he 1 Jervase Markham, in his Epistles of War, 1622, speaks of Vere as "wonderfully skilled in entrenching." 2 C. R. Markham, The Fighting Veres, p. 410. ^ Thomas Fuller, in his Church History, traces the earliest use of the term "Puritan" to 1.564. Archbishop Parker, in his letters, uses "Pre- cisian," "Puritan," "Presbyterian" synonymously for terms of re- proach. Cf. Enc. Brit, under "Puritanism." By 1600, when J. M. commenced his work, the term "Puritan" had come to have a definite meaning. Cf . Gardiner, Hist, of Eng., Vol. I, pp. 29 ff. * Marston, The Dutch Courtezan. ^ The Alchemist. ^ Bartholomew Fair. 84 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS resented the unmerited abuse heaped on the Puritan, In fact, The Newe Metamorphosis has not only many references to the might and justice of Thou great all-seeing, & almighty God,^ which show the sincerity of the author's rehgious beUef, but it also contains several passages which need consider- ation, in which the Puritan is d(!fonded and praised. /. M., in one place, contrasts the honest Puritan with a grasping and conscienceless advocate who, defending his illicit gains, remarks, "Well said that worthy Prophet Machiavell let me got goods, & let them talke of Hell for Puritans Vol. II, Book VI. 94 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS to the hunting hound. He knows horses, and he even gives a Hvely picture of the single combat so popular in the court entertainments during the author's lifetime. He writes of the spirited horses, restive under constraint: scarce could the royall. Ryders hold their horse but ech of them would fayne be at his course they stampe, they snort, they blowe, they chanke the bitte they rise, they leape, they pawinge make a pitte they nowe gird forward wayting for the reyne that w*^ one hand they hardly them refreine so full of spirit were these gallant steedes that from their nostrils flames of fyre p[ro]cedes,^ and, as is natural, he lauds hunting. Indeed, he justifies the killing of game. He writes in much the same words as Markham that hunting is a lawfuU pastime, therfore well he might a princely pleasure, most fit for a Kinge. for that it doth so swete contentment bringe as they the noisome hurtfuU beasts do chase that corne & catle do devoure apace so they the vicious in the comonwealth daily hunt out & kill, for goodmens health thus in this pleasure, they do plainly showe that they the evill from the good doe knowe.'^ J. M. also shows his knowledge of rural England and his personal inclinations in his real love for trees and flowers. He possesses a fund of quaint lore, gained from his reading and his observations, which at times lends a homely charm to his description. He attacks with honest indignation the spendthrifts who sell "an hundred goodly Oakes " ^ for 1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 42 verso. ^ Vol. I, Part II, fol. 17 verso. Markham in Country Contentments, p. 3, speaks of hunting " as being the most royal for the stateliness thereof " of all recreations. ^ Vol. II, fol. 257 verso. J. M. GENT 95 their idle pleasures. To fell trees, he writes, ... is a practice w*'^ o'' spendthrifts use and 'gainst the comonweale a greate abuse he that intends his land to sell away- first 'mongst his tymber he doth make a fray downe in one yeare w**^ have been hundreds growing they care to fell, let others care for sowinge they first sell wood & tymber, then the clods & thus they make most cruell biting rods wherby not only they themselves are whipt but th' comonwealth by them is lewdly ^ stript wasted and stript of tymber & of fuell,^ and the "Boxe, the bane of hony bees,"^ "Holme, Ewe & Cypresse tree," the "shady Beeche, from showers a goodly cloake," and — the tall straite Ashe, the Elme for water worke Crabtree for Millers, Maple where squirrels lurke the greate-growne Popler, w*"^ the Aspen tree the green-spred Laurell still from thonder free the goodly Chesnut, & the Mistle sweete, together with the "sky-kissing Pine, faire Sicamore . . . the makedart Cornell,"* all suffer from irreverent hands. Again, there is frequent mention of flowers by one who knows them. In speaking of an exquisite garden arranged in four squares the author tells us that The third Square was of sweete & fayre died flowers the Marygold that turneth dayes & howers inclyning still its head unto the Sun so longe untill his course be fully run ^ "rudely" is crossed out; the word written above is difficult to decipher. » Vol. II, fol. 70. 3 Vol. II, fol. 62 verso, and Vol. I, Part I, fol. 59. * Vol. II, fos. 69 verso ff. 96 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS in tufts there grewe the Purple velvet-flower and fast by that the spotted Gilly-flower March-violets, Goates beard & the Pincke the Globe-Gee, & Carnation (I thinke) Anemonyes, both red & white & blue single & double & of many hue the Bulbus- Violet, & Convallium sweete th' Emperiall-Lilly, w""^ doth erly greete the Mountaine-lilly & the Byzantine the Alexandrine & Narcissus fyne still-bleeding Hyacinthus there did stande unawares killed by Apollos hande the Fritularia, speckled like a snake Starlight, cald so for noble Sidneys sake diverse coloured Tulips stoode thereby fiambant, strawe colored, white as yvorye, coloured like cloth of gold, grewe ver'gd w**" red and some were yealowe w**^ greene overspread the purple Pagle Uke\nse there did growe the glorious flower of the Sun also the Crowne-Imperiall w*^ his perly droppes the double white Gee, & the sweete Cowesloppes. This garden had walks bordered by the rose, some red, some white, some of the damaske sweete of every kynde & sorte, as was most meete for such a God; the double yealowe rose & double muske, so pleasing to the nose the speckled rose, a plant both newe & rare was there preserved both w*'^ cost & care the Province, Synamon & velvet-blacke and to be breife, not any kynde did lacke.^ 1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 57 verso ff. J. M. GENT 97 The poet of The Newe Metamorphosis, however, displays most markedly and repeatedly a characteristic so distinctive that it is of great value in helping to determine the authorship of the manuscript. We have seen in many of the quotations given in the preceding pages a fondness, amounting almost to tediousness and often detrimental to his work, for ex- plaining the material uses of trees, flowers, fish, herbs, and other things. He tells us the "Boxe is the bane of Honey bees," the elm is good for "water-worke," the crab tree for millers ; or again the "stewe," which is used for swimming as well as for fish, must have sharp stakes and bushes to ward off thieves, the first carps are bred in England, and numerous other matters of this kind. J. M. is practical. He confesses he is a ''poore poet," but he also makes it clear that he had much useful, if quaint information, which he relishes giving to his reader. He displays this knowledge con amore and with no thought of its lack of poetic charm. Instances of this are most numerous. In a garden are not only all varieties of flowers, but also the serviceable onyons & Leekes, Parsnips & Carrots sweete all kynde of Pulse, Cabbage as white as sheete Cucombers, Melons, & the Turnippe round both red & white. He continues, in a most characteristic vein, concerning "Herbes for phisicke," including Vervaine, the w*^^ doth the Gangrena heale Angellica, w''^ eaten every meale is found to be the plagues best medicine Folefoote, Germander & Thistle carline Saxifrage, Silvergrasse, w"^ the collick cure and Bettony for most diseases sure Acanthus there, & Divels-bitte thereby so cald, as if the divell did envj'-e 98 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS the wondrous good, this herbe to men doth bringe and therfore bytes it, sure a wondrous thinge Sowe-bread & Dittany, of such excellent worth that neither of them, neede my setting forth. ^ As we see, he gives much information belonging to the province of the physician. He tells the secrets of household physic. This tendency is further illustrated in those stories con- cerning unfaithfulness and the world-old triangle in mar- riage. He knows many provocatives for lust, as Sperage, Rocket, Basill, Anisseede Saffron, Satyrion that same comon weede Scolymus, Asphodell, & Tricoccon Aristolochia, Erithranicon all kyndes of Bulbus, rootes & Clematis Orchis, Caucalis, & Cynosorchis w*^ diverse more, not needefuU much to name w'^*^ unto lust do man so much enflame.^ And "fresh-water creifish,"^ prawns, lobsters,* oysters, and mushrooms, w*'^ growes not by ingendering nor seede nor roote nor plante but (as she ^ hath decreed) even of the fatnes of the fruitfuU soile in pasture grounds where horse w*^ ploughs ner toile,® artichokes,'' parsnips,* and even the potato, possessing the "vertue ... to stir up venerye,"^ are additional means to 1 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 57. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 58 verso. There are several passages similar to this. Cf. Vol. II, fol. 38 verso. 3 Vol. II, fol. 38 verso. 4 Vol. II, fol. 176 verso. ^ Juno. « Vol. II, fol. 140 verso. « Vol. II, fol. 150 verso. ' Vol. II, fol. 171. 9 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 61. J. M. GENT 99 excite passion. He even informs us that the three months following May "faire Venus is forbid to play." ^ In addition to begin an horticultural expert with an ex- tensive knowledge of drugs produced from plant Ufe, J. M. even amazes and, at times, wearies the reader with a wealth of culinary details usually found in a pamphlet of recipes of an Enghsh housewife. Several feasts are described in detail, and we learn of Pies made of Marrowe mixt [with] Oysters sweete Doucets & Cocks stones w*^ the former meete, of "Eringoes candied fyne," of oysters "dressed in sondry wayes," of "Duck eggs hard roast," of "fat Caviare," of a "sallet" composed of "lettuce, onyons, Leekes,"^ and, indeed, of many "other dishes more."^ Our author, in truth, appears the gourmand. In spite of his praise of simple life '' and his caustic comments on the vice of glut- tony,^ he deHghts in the good things of the table and he knows their ingredients. The passages and references in The Newe Metamorphosis to farms and farm laborers are both economically interest- ing and further confirm the assertion that J. M. knew and enjoyed the country. They also show the same inherent tendency to give detailed information. J. M. tells the reader that 1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 10. Markham, in his Farewell to Husbandry, 1684 edition, pp. 123 ff., writes that in June "for your health" you must use "chast thoughts," in July you must not "meddle with Wine, Women, nor no wantonness," and in August you must "shun feasts," etc. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 61. 3 Vol. I, Part I, fol. 59 verso; Vol. II, fol. 32. ■* Vol. II, Book II, is a good example. 6 Cf. Vol. II, Book XI. 100 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS . . . Hyndes come whistling in the graine but er they leave, they eate it out againe his neighboures catle eate up his spare leaze ^ his horse devoure his yearely croppe of pease, his Shepeheard lets his sheepe be stole away their nightly folding makes them easyer prey his servants spend in possets & in feasts more then he doth on his invited guests his maydes do fleece his mylke-pans in the night so that he often is inforc'te to fight He can not keepe his corne for Rats & Mice yet likes he not to sell at this base price and it is like, for that, S* Swythens day (if it be true that auncients of it say) did rayne apace, & will for forty more succeeding that, (all w*''* will breede no store) yea many more it may doe afterwarde for twenty dayes past it hath rayned harde all corne is laid flat & is easely set but thinne & weake is most of all o"" wheate Rye is all gappie ^ barly that is strucke that is burnt up w**^ May-wede, I did mucke ' these following wets, ye se have bred a flood and choaked all the grasse w**^ durt & mud Haye-cocks are drownd, & grass that laye in swathes is swept away into the watery caves the grasse that stands must nedes a murron brede upon those catle w'^^ theron doe feede.^ 1 "Lease" used in connection with harvesting can mean "pastur- age." Cf. Murray, New Eng. Diet., 6, Part I, p. 157. 2 Thin, weak. ^ To use for dung. * Vol. I, Part II, fos. 7 verso ff. J. M. GENT 101 And again he writes: if catle chance to come in neighboures ground they teache them sone the way that leads to pounde if from the beaten path one hap to stray action of trespasse they wiU have straite waye.^ But it is not only the landlord who is encompassed with troubles. The poor girls of the parish are called by their employers "drat & whore," ^ the working man suffers in- dignities and brutal treatment except in harvest time, when the great landlord gives . . . kynde speeche to all & none refuse the poorest in the towne may then be bold (if a good harvest-man, men doe him hold) to speake as freely, as a better man though scarce w[i]thout releife he liven can especially in tickle ^ rayny season or when as harvest men be some-what geason * but all the rest of th' yeare he may goe by he hath noe neede then of his husbandry then doth he look aloft, will scarcely knowe him nor any kyndnes, not in lookes will showe him. ^ In another place, in speaking of the "Daneworte," or the "Bloodworte," the author tells us that upon my ground in too much plenty growes this stronge ranke herbe,^ showing the reader that /. M. himself probably cultivated land. Indeed, in a description of barley in the early spring he evinces an appreciation both of the anxieties of the 1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 92. 2 Vol. II, fol. 84. ^ Easy, uncertain, unreliable. * Few, scanty. « Vol. I, Part II, fol. 99 verso. « Vol. I, Part II, fol. 101. 102 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS farmer and of the grain itseK that further strengthens this conjecture. He writes: as Barly feilds in glorious springe of yeare w*'^ chap & gape w**^ drought, & cal for rayne w'^^ when then do from the blacke cloudes obteyne it presently comes wrigling forth the mould & lookes more cherely by a thousand fold thriveth itself & ioyes the Owners harte the sighte wherof doth make his harte revive after 's longe toyle he hopeth then to thrive forgets his sweate in digginge 't out the ground.^ It is not only in this love of the out-of-doors and of prosaic details that the author of The Newe Metamorphosis reveals himself; as we have seen before, he delights in parading his learning. He possesses a wide and varied knowledge gained by reading books in French, Itahan, Latin, Spanish, and, of course, in his own tongue, and when- ever it may add to his pose of authority or impress his audience with his fund of information, he mentions his sources and quotes laboriously with scholarly pretension. The manuscript has many marginal references to former works on the Church, to the chronicles, and to classical and continental authorities. At times entire pages are devoted to giving lists of Latin works or unusual names for the pagan divinities. J. M. rarely speaks of his contemporaries; he devotes his attention to those who have gained respect and weight, because of age or lack of access. It is true he is not alone in this respect; the EHzabethan rarely hesi- tated to display his wares for his own advantage; modesty seldom deterred him in seeking the favor of a patron or lauding the merits of the work of his pen. But /. M. is especially ingenious. He has a subtle appreciation of every 1 Vol. II, fol. 45. J. M. GENT 103 means to advancement; he is an adept in attracting atten- tion to his merits. In connection with the author's extensive learning, the question naturally follows whether or not he had been at one of the great universities. The manuscript does not aid us materially in this. J. M. refers to Cambridge as England's most famous University where learned arts do flourish & increase,^ and he speaks of "Trinity, St. Johns and Queens chappell" colleges. On the other hand, as there is no mention of Oxford, it is safe to conclude that he either had been a student at Cambridge, the center of intellectual puritanism, or had gained a liberal education in other ways. Certainly, it seems, no Oxford man was the author of The Newe Meta- morphosis. The fact that J. M. states frequently in his work that he is a poet, though only a "poore poet," and a writer of "course Rjone"- is also of assistance in his identification. It would appear from these statements that The Newe Metamorphosis was not his first work, but that he had already courted public favor, although with no great success. Indeed, when he wished to reward a laborer for some service, he writes that "his purse said noe" and that Poets for th' most p[ar3te, thrid-bare clothed goe I thinke it be a grift ' bequeathed to 's all the poorest man, in myndes most liberall.^ J. M. also tells us, when he journeys to Malvern springs because of the "colhck," a story of an ungrateful son whose 1 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 30 verso. 2 Vol. II, fol. 150 verso. ' Possibly "gift." The Oxford Eng. Did. gives "grift" as an old form of "graft." ^ Vol. II, fol. 24 verso. 104 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS conduct causes the death of his father.^ He speaks at length of the duty to a father and gives examples of sons who honored their parents. He condemns without restraint all those who have proved disobedient and ungrateful, exclaiming : "let me be rather childless & have none then such a viperous ungodly sonne." ^ The author several times in the course of his work returns to this subject of filial love. He shows himself in a favor- able light, and it may be presumed with some certainty that J . M. was a good son to a respected father. But the manuscript even aids in the solution of the prob- lem of determining the author by references to his home. J. M. speaks frequently of the county of Essex. For ex- ample, he scorns an Essex parson who pretends to be a gentleman; ^ he tells of an Essex justice whom he knew, who had denied "his father to his face";^ and again, "when being come home," he found at " Wethersfeild " in Essex a water "as good as some of th' other" springs. The author at the time he wrote these passages may have been living in Essex, or at least he may have had interests in the county. On the other hand, we have mention made several times of "th' East Angles Border," ^ and /. M. tells us in the most positive fashion that, On the East Angles border I abide yet not in Essex on the outmost side.^ As the composition of the poem extended for at least four- teen or fifteen years, during this time J. M. may have hved in many places; but it is safe to say that at some period|of 1 Vol. II, Book VI. " Vol. II, fol. 105. 2 Vol. II, fos. 104 ff. 6 Vol. II, fol. 107 verso. ■' Vol. II, fol. 104. 6 Vol. II, fol. 115. J. M. GENT 105 his life he Hved on the "East Angles border" and "on the outmost side." Finally, no one could read The Newe Metamorphosis or even the numerous quotations from it in the preceding pages without being impressed by the racy, colloquial, and simple vocabulary of the author. He delights in homely words of few syllables; he shuns contortions and remote phraseology. The grotesque language of much of the con- temporary satire, the detestable "sesquipedalian com- pounds" ^ confessing a bastard parentage, the nonsensical jargon which mars the early work of Marston, of Tourneur, and their school with its confusing use of ellipse, its whimsical absurdities, its affected learning drawn from many store- houses, its perplexing obscurity, are all absent from this writer of "yrefull Satyre." He is alien to the so-called school of Persius and its annoying impertinences to good taste. His only obscurity arises from haste of composition and lack of revision. His vigorous and vernacular English is marred, it is true, at times, by excessive mythological allusions; but this is a fault only too common even in later centuries, and J. M., claiming Ovid as his master, at least can offer this excuse in palKation. In determining the author of The Newe Metamorphosis we find, therefore, that we are aided by knowing that J. M. claimed to be a gentleman; ^ that his name was French although his family did not come in with the Con- quest; that he was a soldier serving at Cadiz, in Ireland, and probably in Flanders; that he was in sympathy with the Puritans, possibly accepting their tenets; that he was 1 Churton Collins' ed. Tourneur's Plays and Poems, Vol. I, pp. xxi ff. 2 Not only in the title can we arrive at this conclusion; many times in the poem he pokes fun at the new rich aspirant to birth, and he speaks as one proud of his own good birth. 106 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS an admirer of the ill-starred Essex; that he was familiar with the country, rarely appreciating the secrets of angling and the life of the out-of-doors; that he possessed all the Englishman's inherited love for trees; that he knew flowers and herbs and possessed a fund of expert if quaint learning in regard to their practical uses with an inherent tendency to indulge in homely, tedious explanations; that he was interested and familiar with the economic problems of the country; that he was a man of wide reading and broad culture, expressing a preference for Cambridge; that he had before this work probably written poetry; that he was a devoted son; that he lived on the "outmost side" of the East Angles; and that he possessed a homely vernacular style. If we bear these things in mind, the search for the identity of J. M. gent, is facilitated. CHAPTER IV THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS If we accept the conclusions of the last chapter, the problem of the authorship of The Newe Metamorphosis becomes, in essential respects, a question of finding a J. M. gent, writing between the years 1600-1615, whose life con- forms to what the author tells of himself and whose personal tastes and peculiarities of style are in harmony with what we find in the manuscript. The author lived at a time of remarkable literary fecun- dity, when literature had become a profession, a precarious means of livelihood. The words of Harte concerning Jervase Markham that he was "the first English writer who deserves to be called a hackney writer" and that "all subjects seem to have been alike to him,"^ are unfair; for certainly he was not alone in trying to catch the ear of his contem- poraries by diverse kinds of composition. Gascoigne had wooed fortune with comedy and tragedy, with poetry serious and trivial, with excellent criticism and other mis- cellaneous prose; the versatile and by no means contempt- ible Churchyard affected a variety of subjects and styles besides the broadside in verse; Nash, Lyly, and Greene displayed admirable facility in adapting their works to the changing fashions in taste. Indeed, many of the eminent figures of this age were hackney writers in the sense that they wrote to please their public. J. M. himself undoubtedly planned his Newe Metamorphosis with a view to success; 1 Lowndes, Bib. Manual, Vol. Ill, Part 2, p. 1474: William Harte, Essays in Husbandry. 107 108 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS he chose popular themes and conventional motifs; and the fact that he was only one of many who were striving in this way to win a livelihood and fame makes the problem of identification even more difficult. In a question of this kind, fists of those who were at the great universities/ dedicatory poems to authors and patrons and prefaces to various pubfished works, the early writers on the Efizabethan stage and fiterature,^ and the several Miscellanies of the period are all of great value, for by ex- amining them we can find, with some degree of certainty, those men with the initials J. M. who were writing between 1600 and 1615. Of course, it is possible that our author was unknown, or that in the lapse of years his name has been forgotten. The Newe Metamorphosis may have been the single effort of one so modest, so lacking in confidence that he was unwilling to seek an audience. But, on the other hand, this manuscript bears every earmark of being the work of an author with a too facile pen; it has all the insouciance of the adept in winning popularity. Its author knew London and the continent; he had come in contact with courtiers and with laborers; he understood the public for whom he was writing; indeed, he tells us that he had written poetry before and clearly for publication. It does not seem that he should have been completely forgotten. Francis Godolphin Waldron in reading the manuscript wrote in pencil, as we have seen, on the first title-page four names, suggesting that one of them might be the author. He mentions John Marston, Jervase Markham, John Mason, and a fourth name, almost illegible, James Martin or Mar- 1 Foster, Alumni Oxonienses; Anthony a Wood, Fasti; Atheniae Cantabrigienses . 2 Langbaine, An Account of English Dramatic Poets; Phillips, The- atrum Poetarum Anglicanorum; Winstanley, The Lives of the Most Famous English Poets. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 109 ten.^ Waldron, a zealous antiquary in literature, who delighted in curious rarities, has given us the names of the only four men of whom we have record with the initials J. M. who were writing verse, similar in character to The Newe Metamorphosis during the first part of the seventeenth century.^ Let us first consider the two of less importance. John Mason received his Bachelor's degree at Cambridge in 1600-1, and his Master of Arts in 1606. He was a resi- dent of Catherine HalV which is not mentioned by J. M. when he speaks of certain colleges. We know nothing further of him except that he is the author of a mediocre, ranting play,"* called The Turke a worthie tragedie, repub- lished as An Excellent Tragedy of Muleasses the Turke and Borgias Governor of Florence, full of Interchangeable variety beyond expectation. To him is also assigned The School Moderator.^ Mason, or his publisher, evidently thought highly of this ''worthie tragedie"; in his title-page there is none of the modesty of J. M., who, as it has been shown, deprecates his shortcomings as a poet. It seems scarcely possible that Mason, leaving Cambridge 1600-1, could have taken part in the Cadiz expedition, or served under Essex in Ireland.^ The name John Mason, also, is undeniably English. It is in no way probable that he wrote The Newe Metamorphosis. Waldron in his list could scarcely have intended James 1 Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith, Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. II, p. 481, says the fourth name is "rubbed out." This is incorrect. ^ Geffray or Jeffrey Minshull or Mynshul was born about 1594. He entered Gray's Inn March 11, 1611-12. He was too young to be the author of The Newe Metmnorphosis. Cf. Dictionary Nat. Biog. ' Atheniae Cantabrigienses, Vol. Ill, pp. 17, 108; Lowndes, Bib. Manual, p. 1505. * Entered Stationers' Register, 10 March, 1608. 6 1648. ^ Essex was made Governor-General of Ireland 1598-99. 110 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Martin/ the philosophical writer of Perthshire and teacher at Turin, as a probable author of this manuscript. This Martin was said to have been at Oxford, and he is chiefly remembered for his disputative powers. He died about 1577, many years before the writing of the work under consideration. Another James Martin,^ a Master of Arts of Oxford who was engaged in translating and revising in 1629 and 1630,^ is undoubtedly intended. The fact that J. M. speaks of Cambridge as the greatest of England's universities tends to preclude the possibility of Martin's authorship, even if it were not for the facts that his age, his English name, and his type of work would also militate against this supposition.'* John Marston, however, is a much more significant figure in our literature than either the unimportant and almost unknown John Mason or James Martin. In addition, since the time Waldron examined this manuscript his name has been closely connected with it. Haslewood, indeed, as we have seen,^ attributed this work to the dramatist, and Halliwell-Phihipps asserted that it resembled in some degree his style. Miss Lucy Toulmin-Smith,*^ however, denied the authorship of Marston; she maintained that he would not speak of his "infant Muse" and his "newe- borne poesie" in 1600 when he had already gained favor by 1 Dictionary Nat. Biog., Vol. XXXVI, p. 280. 2 Probably this was the James Martin who entered Magdalene College, Oxford, June 17, 1597, aged seventeen. Cf. Foster, Alumni Oxonienses, p. 978. * Saravia's Vindiciae Sacrae; Sylvester's Panthea. * A John Morgan took part in the Cadiz expedition and was knighted for his services. He wrote nothing so far as it is known. Cf. Camden, Annates, Vol. II, and Hakluyt, Collection of Early Voyages, London, 1810, Vol. II, p. 29. » Cf. Chap. II. « Cf. Chap. II. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 111 satires, plays, and an Ovidian poem. In making this assertion she neglected to take into account the fact that J . M. also tells the reader that he has written poetry before this work, or the well-known affectation of modesty on the part of Marston. Miss Toulmin-Smith, on the other hand, strengthened her case materially when she offered in support of her contention the fact that the handwriting found in the manuscript differs entirely from the dedication in Marston's own hand to his Entertainment of Alice, Dowager Countess of Essex. ^ She did not take into consideration, however, the supposition that the manuscript may have been copied by some friend of the author or by an amanuensis. But the chirography of The Newe Metamorphosis is un- doubtedly that of the author. In spite of the fact of the great length of the work and that its composition extended over many years, the handwriting is the same throughout. There are trivial differences, very probably arising from haste, the quill used, or, as the poet naively remarks, because "my hand doth ake" ^; but the numerous corrections, the words inserted in place of those crossed out, verify this conclusion. In consequence, the fact that the dedication to the Entertainment is in a different hand from that of The Newe Metamorphosis aids in the elimination of Marston. Marston, however, is too important a figure to be dis- missed so hastily, especially since for over a hundred years ^ he has been considered in connection with this manuscript. He is also one of the most interesting and tantalizing per- sonalities contemporary with Shakspere; interesting because of his distinctive type of work, tantalizing because he always holds out promises rarely fulfilled of tragic intensity and 1 Bridgewater MS. 2 Vol. II, fol. 268. ^ Waldron examined the manuscript in 1806. Cf. Vol. II, fol. 138 112 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS poetic beauty. His career was meteoric. In the very early twenties he took place with Lodge, Hall, and "the author of Piers Plowman" as ''best for satyre" in England,^ and he had already shocked and delighted London with his in- sincere but vigorous lampoons, outlandish in vocabulary, obscure in meaning, ferocious in invective, and, at times, vile in imagination. A boy in years, with all the arrogance and fiery impetuousness of youth, he vied with Shakspere and Marlowe with his Pygmalion,'^ a poem, salacious, it is true, hke most of its genre, but partly redeemed by light humor, playful fancy, and a graceful ease, noteworthy in one so young. In spite of public and even private con- demnation,^ in face of the pretended moral purpose of the author, the popularity of this Ovidian idyll "* and of Marston himself grew speedily, and only a few years later he could write truthfully that he has been "so fortunate in the stage- pleasings." The truculent GifTord, partial and scathing in his criticism, seems to have blazed a trail, followed too readily by many successors. When he wrote that, "We have but to open his works to be conscious that Marston was the most scur- rilous, filthy, and obscene writer of his time" and that "some of the most loathesome parts of The Monk are to be found in that detestable play"^ (Sophonisba) , Gifford centered both the scholar's and the reader's attention on all that is revolting and hideous in the work of Marston. His 1 Meres' Palladis Tamia, New Shakspere Society, Series 4, I, p. 161. ^ The Metamorphos of Pygmalions Image; And Certayne Satyres, 1598. ^ The Pygmalion was ordered burned in 1599. Cf. 41 Regina Elizabeth, Stationers' Register, Vol. Ill, pp. 316 ff. Anthony Nixon, The Blacke Yeare, 1606, says Pygmalion has helped to corrupt England and "forms part of a prostitutes library." < Reprinted, 1613 and 1628. ^ Gifford, Ben Jonson, ed. 1875, p. xx. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 113 obscene cynicism, his gloomy pessimism, his farrago of outlandish expressions, his absurd bombast and stilted grandiloquence, his revolting realism and mock casuistry, his reveling in filth and nauseous details have all been accented time and time again to the detriment and even to the neglect of much that is admirable and noteworthy. .Objectionable features, it must be kept in mind, are not only found in the plays of Marston; Webster and Middle- ton, Beaumont, Fletcher, and Massinger, in fact most of his contemporaries, offend the fine taste by lines and scenes of obscene wit or foul imagination. Indeed, there is no more foul-mouthed or scurrilous cynic, grotesquely deformed in body and soul, in the contemporary drama than Thersites; he heaps filth and obloquy on everything pure and noble. But Marston does not always offend our sensibilities; he has given us a great deal worthy of commendation and hearty admiration. He has left us plays of strange power and with a haunting charm. The gloomy pessimism, the offensive ribaldry, the annoying mannerisms are relieved and, indeed, to a large extent compensated for by vivid characterization, a freshness of wit and a comic power boisterously merry, a repressed vigor and impassioned strength, and splendid flashes of great poetry. The gentle and discriminating Lamb found much to praise. He dis- covered rare beauties in word and thought even in the rodomontade of Antonio and Mellida} And so it may be seen that if Marston is responsible for The Newe Metamorphosis, we may expect to find in the course of its rambling length the distinctive faults and excellencies of its author. A work commenced in 1600, 1 The laughable underplot of the Mulligrubs in The Dutch Courtezan, and The Faiim are examples of his power in farce. The selections given by Lamb are chosen with fine discrimination and show Marston at his noblest. 114 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS much of it written before 1603,^ composed hastily and, as the manuscript shows, with httle and careless revision, would assuredly display all the contortions and absurd affectations of Marston's early style, his bizarre vocabulary and his vagaries, together with his intrinsic power and splendor in conception and his masterly command of verse. Let us again consider, before we take up the question of stylistic characteristics, what we know of J. M., both from his own words and from implication, in relation to the meager information we have of John Marston. In the first place, J. M. signs himself "gentleman." Marston belonged to the old and respectable Shropshire family of Marstons.^ His father, who had moved to Coven- try, was a lecturer of the Middle Temple in 1592, and was a man of some prominence. The dramatist matriculated at Brazenose College, Oxford,^ on the 4th of February 1591-2, as a ''gentleman's son of Co. Warwick." The celebrated stage quarrel also throws light on his gentle birth. Crispinus in Jonson's Poetaster, who figures as Marston,^ boasts of the "armes which he bears," and Chloe tells him that "your legges doe sufficiently shew you are a gentleman borne, sir: for a man borne upon little legges, is alwayes a gentleman borne." ^ Even the truculent Jonson who "beat Marston, and took his pistoll from him"*^ conceded that his fiery and provoking opponent had the 1 Vol. I, Part II, Book XII, and Vol.. II, Book I, both refer to the recent death of Elizabeth. There are numerous references to this queen, especially in the first twelve books. 2 BuUen, The Works of Marston, Vol. I, p. xii. Joseph Hunter, Add. Ms. 24,487 {Chorus Vatum). 3 Grosart, Introduction to Marston's Poems, p. x. * Cf. Jonson's Conversations with William Drummond, ed. David Laing, Shakespeare Society Publications, 8-10, pp. 20 ff. * Jonson, Poetaster, Act II, Sc. 1, 11. 92 ff. 8 Jonson's Conversations, p. 11. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 115 traditional right to the title of gentleman. J. M. gent, consequently, may stand for John Marston. But in the second place, /. M. writes that his name is "Frenche" and that it did not come in "w*** conqueringe Williams sworde." Marston's name is essentially English in its derivation. In the Visitation of Shropshire (1564- 1620), the first Marston referred to is in 1396 ^ over three hundred years after the Norman Conquest — "who held a 'manor' in Salop." ^ In no way can Marston be iden- tified with what this couplet tells of the author. Again J. M. was a soldier who had been at Cadiz, in Connaught, and probably in Flanders. It is true that we know very little of Marston's life. Anthony a Wood tells us, however, that he was ''admitted Bachelor of Arts on 6th of February 1593-4, as the eldest son of an Esquire"* and "after completing that degree by determination went his way and improved his learning in other faculties." We learn from Meres that in 1598 he was already known in literary London as a conspicuous satirist. It is usually conjectured that in the years intervening he had studied law. An interesting passage in his father's will strengthens this conjecture and lends to it authority. He leaves "my law books to my s'^ son whom I hoped would have profited by them in the study of law but man proposeth and God disposeth &c." * The future dramatist evidently grew restless in the law chambers and turned to the pre- carious field of letters. It is possible, of course, that he may have accompanied Essex and Lord Howard to Cadiz in 1596; many wild young spirits and beplumed gallants took part in this spectacular 1 Grosart, Introduction to Marston's Poems, p. vi. 2 Grosart, Ibid., p. vi. 3 Wood's Fasti, ed. Bliss, p. 602. * Grosart, Introduction to Marston's Poems, pp. x ff. 116 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS expedition/ and the adventurous young Marston may have been numbered among them. John Donne, who was about three years older, had been attracted by this adventure and the Azores expedition a year later. But in the work of Marston we find no reason to suppose that he had ever followed the calling of arms. In his satires he rails in his customary fashion at great Tubrio who Eats up his arms: and wars munition, and he prays that this miscreant will Melt and consume in pleasures surquedry.'^ He speaks again of "a dread Mavortian" who "wallows unbraced," who is "nought but huge blaspheming oaths," and who has a "Swart snout, big looks, misshapen Snitzers' clothes "; indeed he is sunk In sensual lust and midnight bezelling,^ and is grossly bestial.^ Later he writes of "Swart Martius" Swooping along in wars feign'd maskery, and of those "soldadoes" who are "brutes sensual" pos- sessing "no spark of intellectual."^ Marston's pessimistic attitude in his satires is rarely sincere and mainly conventional. His role was that of the virtuous scourger of the vices of his fellows, a misanthrope despairing in acrid terms of human frailty; but still in spite of his affectation of morality we can judge from these at- ^ Hakluyt's Collection of Early Voyages, London, 1810, Vol. II, p. 19; and Camden, Annates, Vol. II, p. 161. 2 Satire I, 11. 90 ff. Bullen, The Works of Marston, Vol. Ill, pp. 266 ff. 3 tippling. * Scourge of Villainy, VII, 11. 100 ff. ^ Scourge of Villainy, VIII, 11. 77 ff. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 117 tacks in his satires on the soldier that he had no intimate knowledge or predilection for the profession of arms. In addition, in his plays his soldiers are the soldiers of his sources or the conventional man of war of the contem- porary stage ^ and his references are rare and superficial to the foreign military engagements of his country.'^ Indeed, his youth, his activities, his rapid authorship between 1597 and 1606, and his works all seem to preclude the sup- position that Marston was a soldier, or that he had served in Spain,^ Ireland, and Flanders. Then we have seen that J. M., in his more thoughtful moments, was either a Puritan or in sympathy with this derided sect; several times, he is outspoken in their de- fense and praise.^ Marston, on the other hand, laughed at the Puritans and gibed at their foibles both in his satires and in his plays. He mocks the ''devout mealmouth'd precision" and declares "no Jew, no Turk" would act more inhumanely toward a Christian "as this Puritan," only "a seeming saint — vile cannibal."^ He also speaks of "the rank Puritan" who makes his religion "a bawd to lewdness"^ and charges him with the most degenerate vices. Then the merry subplot of The Dutch Courtezan is concerned with the pious hypocrites, Mulligrub and his wife. It must always be borne in mind that this contumely of the Puritan and making merry at his expense are largely conventional; still the J. M. of The Newe Metamorphosis, with his dignified and earnest defense of the Puritans and 1 The generals and captains in Sophonisba are examples. 2 Examples in Jacke Drums Entertainment, pp. 141 and 166, Simp- son, School of Shakspere. ^ Satire I, 1. 108, has a possible reference to the Essex expedition. ^ Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 29 flf. 6 Satire II, 11. 55-86. Bullen, III, pp. 271 ff. « Scourge of Villainy, Satire IX, 11. 109 ff. Bullen III, p. 366. An- other attack is found in Scourge of Villainy, Satke III, 1. 154. 118 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS his indignation at the attempt to make them suffer for the Gunpowder Plot/ could never have written the Hbels found in the satires and plays of Marston. It is also of interest that, whereas J. M. is constantly heaping abuse on the Roman Catholic faith and its followers, interrupting his stories in the most aggravating way with these attacks and even devoting two books to the papists,^ Marston is comparatively silent on this subject. Possibly his half-Italian mother may have won his sympathy for the Romanists.^ The love of the country and that familiar knowledge and homely information which J. M. dehghts in placing before his reader concerning fishing, trees, flowers, plant life, farming, and all the many interests of a man bred in the open, are not found in the works of Marston. He never dehghts in speaking of the carp, the speckled trout, and other river fish; in praising the craft of the angler; in giving the properties of herbs and trees; in homely recipes and remedies; indeed, much that is most distinctive in the work of /. M., an inherent part of the man, uncon- sciously and continually betraying his tastes and training, Marston shows no fondness for. He is a city man. When he gives his reader or his audience local atmosphere, when he pictures the fop, the parasite, the spendthrift, or the gull, his background is that of his source or London. In several other important respects, which require no detailed mention, it is impossible to identify Marston as J. M. The former, an Oxford graduate, would scarcely call Cambridge the greatest of English universities. Again, 1 Vol. II, fol. 204. 2 His maternal grandfather was an Italian surgeon, Andrew Guarsi, who settled in London. Cf. Grosart, Introduction, pp. vii ff. 3 In Pygmalion's Image, BuUen, III, p. 25, he refers to "peevish Papists," and in The Scourge of Villainy, Satire II, 11. 69 ff., there is some conventional satire. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 119 though hke many of his contemporaries he knew several languages and undoubtedly had read widely, especially in the literature of Italy/ still he never paraded his knowledge; he did not trumpet abroad his learning in the manner so characteristic of /. M. And finally, born in Coventry, living in London until at least 1606-7, and presented with the living of Christ Church in Hampshire, "10th October 1616," ^ it is not probable that he ever lived on the "outmost border" of the East Angles,^ the home of J. M. When we come to the question of style — the diction, the use of figures, the sentence structure, and the versi- fication — The Newe Metamorphosis is so unlike the dis- tinctive work of Marston that it is surprising that it could have been ascribed to him by any one who had read even a few pages of the manuscript. Marston possessed eccen- tricities in style so marked, frequently so absurd, that his hand can be detected with a degree of certainty. The man himself was so fiery, so arrogant in disposition, and so bizarre in his mannerisms, that he became a figure in much of the contemporary drama. Critics have identified him as a character in several plays associated with the War of the Theatres. At various times he has been found to be Pistol,^ Carlo,^ Anaides,^ Hedon,^ Crispinus,' the scurrilous ^ Aronstein, Englische Sludien, XXI, p. 74, writes that Marston knew Latin and the ItaUan novelists. 2 Bullen, The Works of Marston, Vol. I, p. xiv. ^ Vol. II, fol. 115. * Sarrazin, Kleine Shakespere Studien, in der Beitr. zur roman. und engl. Philologie, X, says Marston is Pistol. Wyndham arrived at the same conclusion. 6 Fleay, Biographical Chronicle, I, p. 97; Herford in Dictionary Nat. Biog. in Life of Jonson; Symonds, Ben Jonson, p. 37; Penni- man, War of the Theatres, p. 50. R. A. Small, The Stage Quarrel, p. 36, denies this assertion. ^ Cynthia's Revels. Cf. Penniman, War of the Theatres, p. 91. Small denies this, p. 37. ^ Cf. Small, p. 37. ^ Dekker, Satiromastix, p. 195. 120 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Thersites, and many others.^ And his fustian style, mark- ing and marring his work, was a characteristic of the man, occasioning much ridicule. Clove in Every Man in His Humour - and Crispinus in The Poetaster ^ give us some of the abominations of many syllables of which Marston was guilty, and the oft quoted passage from The Return from Parnassus,^ Methinks he is a Ruffian in his stile Withouten bands or garters ornament He quaffes a cup of French mans Helicon Then royster doyster in his oylie tearmes, shows contemporary opinion coincided with the later verdict concerning Marston's absurdities. The Newe Metamorphosis, on the other hand, displays none of these pecuharities. The diction is remarkably simple; there is no obscurity because of the omission of words; and even in those passages in which the author shows the most passion there is no tendency to ellipsis, to the exclamation and the question, to rhetorical devices, and to the high-flown, strongly Latinized jargon of Marston. J. M., however, lacks the divine fire of the poet; to rise to the graphic force of felicitous expression and appropriate epithet — those magical flashes of genius that delight us in Marston — is never in his power. In elevated passages he is labored. His gift lies in other directions. Whenever he strains for the loftier flights, he destroys his effect by some homely expression or prosaic detail, banal and in- felicitous. For example, in his apotheosis of Peace he writes that ^ C. R. Baskerville, English Elements in Jonson's Early Comedy, p. 304, says that Jonson in "portrayal of character is primarily a follower of Renaissance standards and ideals," and there is "a large background of conventionality in Jonson's satire of Marston." 2 Act III, Sc. 1. 3 Act V, Sc. 3, 11. 484 S. " Act I, Sc. 2. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 121 It turneth swords to coulters, pikes to akorne poles it bringeth forth boyes and girles (like fishe) in sholes, with no intention of coarseness, and the unusual and dis- tasteful, the "images of filth and putrefaction" ^ so common in Marston are foreign to his work. In other respects also the work of Marston and /. M. are dissimilar. J. M. lacks the skill in verse displayed by the dramatist; he handles his couplet with difficulty; rime and accent often shackle his rapid flow of narrative. On the other hand, Marston 's versification in his early satires in which he uses the couplet frequently displays "a, care- lessness and laxity," but it also possesses a "freedom and facility," ^ a racy vigor and buoyancy never found in the pages of The Newe Metamorphosis. Then, too, J. M. never shows the dramatic power either in characterization or in visualizing an episode possessed by his greater contem- porary who, before he was thirty, had influenced to a singular degree the stage literature of his day. It can be safely concluded from the evidence which has been advanced that Marston was not the author of The Newe Metamorphosis. His name was not "Frenche"; he probably was never a soldier; there is no record of his being present at the taking of Cadiz, or in Ireland and Flanders; he attacked the Puritans and showed no attach- ment for Essex; he had no interest in the life and occupations of the country; he was not fond of digressing into homely practical details; he was not a Cambridge man and made no parade of his learning; he did not live on the "outer" border of East Anglia; his handwriting differed from that of The Newe Metamorphosis; and his style was markedly unHke that of /. M. 1 Thorndike, Tragedy, p. 147. 2 Warton, Hazlitt ed., Vol. IV, p. 409. CHAPTER V THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS (Continued) — JERVASE MARKHAM Since John Marston was not the author of The Newe Metamorphosis, the versatile and proHfic Jervase — often written Jarvis, Jervis, and Gervase, and frequently I, and J. — Markham remains to be considered. Markham belonged to a family not only esteemed in its native county of Nottingham, but which, in its long history, during many centuries, had also furnished some illustrious names to the roll of honor of England. Francis Markham,^ an adventurous elder brother of Jervase and the author of Five Decades of the Epistle of War ^ and the Booke of Honour, tells us ^ of the antiquity of the Markham family and that it antedated even the coming of William the Conqueror,^ and Camden^ writes that this family "for worth and antiquity hath been verie notable." Indeed, before the Con- quest West and East Markham had been contiguous par- 1 Born 1565, died 1627. 2 Fol. 1622. ' Genealogy or Petigre of the Markhams of Markham, Cothani, Oxton, Ollerton & Sedgebrook, 27 July, 1601. * In the earliest edition, 1835, of J. Burke's Commoners & Landed Gentry, the lineage of the Markhams of Nottinghamshire is not traced further back than Henry II to a certain Sir Alexander de Marcham, Castellan. A History of the Markham Family by the Reverend David Frederick Markham, London, 1854, states that the Markham family traces its origin "to a date anterior to the Norman Conquest," Chap. I, p. I. (A new edition called Markham Memorials, edited by Sir Clements Markham, has additional Markham data.) ^ Camden, Britannia, p. 550. 122 THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 123 ishes in Nottinghamshire, and after the coming of the Normans a certain Claron, who had served the Confessor, retained West Markham under the overlordship of a favorite of the Norman Duke, Roger de Bush. Claron's descendants assumed the title Lord of Marcham, and the name of the family for many years was written De Marcham. ^ William de Marcham, an eminent and astute ecclesiastic, both Bishop of Wells and Lord Treasurer to his king, Edward I, who was recommended by Boniface VIII to be enrolled in the calen- dar of saints,^ and "that pattern of an upright judge," ^ Sir John Markham, Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, who framed the instrument deposing the unfortunate Richard II and who rivals Sir William Gascoigne for the honor of sending the merry Prince Hal to prison,* are the two most conspicuous members of this family before the sixteenth century. In the turbulent years of the War of the Roses, the Markhams were often of service. Polydore Vergil speaks at length of a certain Sir John, a brave soldier and comrade of the first Tudor. Indeed, the king's mother, the kindly Margaret, married her kinswoman, Anne Neville, a descend- ant of royalty, to his son, the great-grandfather of Jervase. This Markham, after the fall of the monasteries, became very powerful, ruling all the country around Newark,^ and he held the responsible position under Edward VI of Lieutenant of the Tower. In spite, however, of his prominence he died "utterly ruined."^ His grandchildren included Francis, the mother of the ill-fated Anthony ^ Cf . A History of the Markham Family, pp. 2 ff. ^ Cornelius Brown, Lives of Nottingham Worthies, pp. 167-169. ^ Lord Campbell, Lives of Chief Justices. * A History of the Markham Family, pp. 9 ff. The evidence is based on the Memoranda of Francis Markham, a contemporary of Shakspere. 5 L. and P. Henry VIH, XIV. (1), 295. ^ Thoroton, History of Nottinghamshire, Vol. I, pp. 343 ff. 124 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Babington, and that fair Isabella Markham, the favored attendant of the Princess Elizabeth even in her imprison- ment, who was lauded and wooed in several poems by Sir John Harrington. She married this knight, encouraged by her royal mistress, who became the godmother of their son, the wit and translator of Ariosto. Robert Markham, the father of Jervase, was the brother of Francis and Isabella. He also stood high in the favor of the queen and is celebrated in that jingle of her knights of Nottingham, Gervase the gentille, Stanhope the stout Markham the lion, and Sutton the lout. He occupied many offices of trust, but the records tell us that he was also a "valiant consumer of his paternal inheri- tance." ^ His son Robert, the eldest brother of Jervase, also a "fatal unthrift and Destroyer of this eminent family, "^ completed the ruin of the Markham fortunes. Jervase Markham was the third son of this Robert Mark- ham of Gotham, a small village not far from the historic city of Newark in Nottinghamshire, and of his first wife, Mary, daughter of Sir Francis Leake. As his brother Francis states in his Memoranda that he was born the 25th of July in the seventh year of the reign of Elizabeth, one may assume that Jervase was born about 1567 or 1568.^ The chequered career of Francis, as told in his curious autobiography, is of interest, because undoubtedly his younger brother had many of the same advantages in early life and was attracted by the meteoric career of the venture- 1 A History of the Markham Family, p. 26. 2 Thoroton, History of Nottinghamshire, Vol. I, p. 344. 3 Rev. A. B. Grosart in his Memorial introduction to the Tears of the Beloved, Fuller Worthies' Library, Vol. II, p. 466, puts his birth in 1566; A History of the Markham Family, p. 64, puts it in 1568. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 125 some elder brother, as well as by the soldier blood inherited from many forefathers, to follow for years the profession of the soldier. Francis writes in part: First brought up at my lord of Pembroke's, whose wife was Catherine daughter of y® earl of Shrewsbury, whose mother and his were cousin germans. Brought up after 10 years with Bilson, schoolmaster of Winchester and after bishop there. After, I was put to Adrianus de Seraina, at Southampton, a schoolmaster, who going to his country, the Lowe Countries, my lord put me to one Malin, a lowe fellow, schoolmaster at Paules. Then, 1582, my lord put me to Trinity College in Cambridge, to my tutor Dr. Hammond, and allowed me forty marks per annum. My tutor departing, left me at Dr. Gray's. I contemned him, and went to y^ warrs. Whereat my lord was angry and cut off my pension. So I lived in disgrace, till I submitted myself to my father in 1586. Francis then studied law at Gray's Inn, got a "companie and was captaine" mider Lord Essex in France, and later followed this versatile favorite in his disastrous campaign in Ireland. Before this he must have served with the military genius of Elizabeth's closing years, for he tells us that he was "drawne againe to ye Lowe Countries" with Sir Francis Vere. His later life was one of reckless adven- ture. Of impecunious but good family, he wooed without success the fashionable Countess of Derby and Cumberland ; was imprisoned for many weeks for debt, only to be released by such noble personages as "Isabel y® Countesse of Rutland, y*" Lord Monteigle, y*" Lord Sidney, and Sir Francis Vere"; and recklessly raffled for a jewel with ten of the greatest ladies of fashion.^ At the end, embittered by failure and forgotten by those he had served, he retired to his native county to write his Booke of Honour. A vahant soldier, a scholar of no mean attainment, a prose writer of charm, and a courtier truly Ehzabethan in his careless daring and 1 Cf. A History of the Markham Family, pp. 31 ff. 126 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS dare-devil enthusiasm for romance and adventure, such was Francis, the brother of Jervase Markham. The younger brother, undoubtedly, possessed to a large degree the careful education, the varied interests, and the joy in adventure found in Francis Markham. ^ He, also, was by profession a soldier and served in both the Low Countries and in Ireland ^ with his two brothers, Francis and Godfrey. But he was, in addition, a man of broad culture and varied interests. His works show that he read French, Italian, and Spanish; and Dutch too, he probably understood.^ His versatihty was amazing. Harte, indeed, writing a century later, unkindly called him the first English hackney writer, and declared that aU subjects seem to have been easy to him and that his "thefts were innumerable." Not only was Markham the favorite authority during his Ufetime on the horse and horsemanship, about which he wrote with all the spontaneous ardor of the enthusiastic lover, but his writings on husbandry, the delights and tricks of angling, the falcon, the tillage of the soil, the care of cattle, recipes for the housewife, rural occupations, the pleasures and value of archery, prominent leaders, heraldry, and the profession of arms also show an interest in a diver- sity of subjects and an extensive knowledge of them. Markham dehghted in the Hfe of action. He took joy in the country in which he must have spent much of his busy career, and the hfe and duties of the soldier he had learned in many lands in the stern school of the camp. He aimed at popularity with an engaging frankness, and he attained it. Several of his prose works were reprinted ^ Francis in 1595 was "honoured with a degree in the university of Heidelberg." Thos. Bailey, Annals of Nottingham, Vol. H. 2 History of the Markham Family, p. 34; Lives of Nottingham Worthies, pp. 167 ff., etc. ^ Langbaine calls him a good scholar and an excellent linguist. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 127 many times during the seventeenth century. His enthusi- astic assurance was contagious; but this assumption of authority in his many fields was not merely the empty vainglorious boast of an unscrupulous vender of other men's wares.^ "Showman at heart," he was one who must "beat his drum with characteristic flourish"^; a sharp "jour- nalist" who was an adept in attracting applause, as Mr. Aldis writes in his sympathetic estimation.^ But with all these frailties, Jervase Markham was so vital, so valiant in spirit in face of adversity, so buoyantly optimistic, so chivalrously reverential to his father,'* so tenderly and humbly pious in his childlike trust in his Maker, that to those who know his curious pamphlets with "their singular rhythmical charm" of style and homely diction,^ smacking of the flavor of the soil he urges the reader to cultivate, he seems alive; he awakens a responsive glow. Markham's literary activities were not confined to pam- phlets. Belles-lettres early attracted him, although with modest sincerity he desclaimed to be any more than a humble worshipper at the shrine of the Muses. In his preface to the Tears of the Beloved he offers to the "Christian 1 Harte speaks of his many thefts; Hazlitt says he was an "adept" in inserting his name. * H. G. Aldis, Cambridge History of Eng. Lit., Vol. IV, p. 418. ^ Cambridge History of Eng. Lit., Vol. IV, Chap. XII: Writers ori Country Pursuits and Pastimes. * His first work, A Discourse of Horsmanshippe, 1.593, is dedicated to his father; and in a letter written to Sir John Markham of Ollerton, who had quarreled with his father and called Jervase a "lyinge Knave," he says: "but for 'lyinge knave' w*** him dwell it w''^ unjustly gave it me, and doe but name hym that will in equal place so name me, and I will eyther give my soul to god or thrust y** lyinge knave unto hys bossome. S"" imagin me as you wryte me to be trulye my father's Sonne, so have I trulye a feelinge of my father's indignities." Lam- beth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65). * Aldis, p. 425. 128 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Reader" the fruits of "my harsh and untuned Muse," and he speaks of his talent as "slender and simple." Again, in a letter to an irascible kinsman, who had called him "a poetycall lyinge knave," he replies: "For my love to poesye if it be an error, I confess my selfe faultye, and have w*'^ as greate hartynes as ever I grieved for any sinne comytted gaynst the hyest, mourned for myne howers mispent in y^ feather-light studye, yet can I name many noble person- ages who w*^ greater desyer, and more fervencie have cortynued and boasted in y^ humor, w°*^ thoughe in others it be excellent, in my selfe I loathe and utterlye abhorr it."^ In the same year that A Discourse of Horsmanshippe appeared,^ the Stationers^ Register mentions a Thyrsis and Daphne,^ now lost, but undoubtedly, as Mr. Fleay con- jectured, "an amatory poem" similar in treatment to Venus and Adonis.'^ This was followed two years later by his popular Honorable Tragedie of Sir Richard Grinvile Knight, a tedious, halting story in verse, burdened with classical allusions and conceits, of the gallant fight against Spain, and by his religious Poe^n of Poems, or Sions muse. In addition to these and later original poems,^ he trans- lated from the French of Desportes ^ and of Madame Gene- vieve Petau Maulette,^ and probably from the Italian.* He also continued, most prosaically,^ Sidney's Arcadia. 1 Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65). 2 1.593. 3 April 23, 1593. * Fleay, Biographical Chronicle of the English Stage, p. 58. ^ The Tears of the Beloved, 1600; Marie Magdalene's Lamentations, 1601. ^ Rodmouth's Infernall, or the Diuell conquered, 1608; the first edi- tion was in 1598. ^ Devoreux's Vertues Tears, 1597-8. 8 The Famous Whore, or The Noble Curtizan, 1609. 9 The English Arcadia, 1607, and The Second and Last Part of the First Book of the English Arcadia, 1613. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 129 The stage, also, naturally attracted Markham; a comedy, The Dumbe Knight,^ and a tragedy, Herod and Antipater,'^ are additional evidence of his industry and popularity. The former, drawn in the main from Bandello,^ is not without merit, Mr. Fleay, with that vision that has often helped to solve many problems of the Elizabethan period, assigned, I beheve correctly, the humorous, satirical underplot, com- prising the story of the miserly Prate, his silly wife Lolha, the bawd Collaquintida, the obscene clerk President, the blunt soldier lover Alphonso, and other minor characters to Markham.^ The fun in this play is not of the finest or of the cleanest, but Markham shows genuine ability in creating character by a few impressionistic touches, and he is not lacking a certain lively animation and a good-natured cynicism which help to raise his scenes above mediocrity and often furnish real diversion. And so we can appreciate to a degree the indefatigable industry of Jervase Markham, an industry which apparently rejected nothing that his popularity would sell and which did not hesitate to repeat even verbatim, with an impudent but ingenuous assurance, what he had before offered to a guileless pubhc.^ Travail of authorship caused him little labor. With a capacious memory, stored with a motley wealth of classical and medieval learning drawn from many ^ 1608. Lewis Machin collaborated in this play. It is published in Dodsley's Old Plays, Vol. IV, 1780 edition. ^ 1622. It was acted several times before publication. William Sampson collaborated. ^ Langbaine first mentioned the source. ^ Fleay, Biographical Chronicle, Vol. II, p. 58. * This undoubtedly led to the famous entry in the Stationers' Register signed by Markham to write no more books and cause "bookes to be printed of the Deseases or cures of any Cattle, as Horse, Oxe, Cowe, Sheepe, Swine and Goates." Cf. Arber, Transcript of the Stationers' Register, Vol. Ill, p. 317. 130 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS storehouses, and aided by a keen power of observation and a quaint fund of popular lore, he valiantly entered the Hsts of authorship with the contemporary giants and was not driven from the field discreditably. Though Jonson, arrogant in a real superiority, may tell Drummond that Markham "was not of the number of the faithful [i.e. Poets], and but a base fellow," ^ and the youthful Hall may jeer at the " Ink-hornisms " and "light-skirts" of "the holy spouse of Christ" in the Song of Solomon,'^ still even in his youth Markham was not despised. Meres and Bodenham mention him; ^ Guilpin writes that though he is "censur'd for his want of plot," still "his Subject's rich," and that "his Muse soares a falcons gallant pitch";* and again, England's Parnassus has as many as forty-seven quotations attributed to Markham, a convincing sign of his popularity as a poet.^ The tests which we applied to Marston concerning the authorship of The Newe Metamorphosis are most significant when Markham is considered. They lead, indeed, taken in conjunction with several additional points to be advanced later, to the conviction that Jervase Markham planned to capture public fancy in a new field. We have seen, to enumerate again, that the author of this manuscript signed himself J. M. gent, that his name was French, although his 1 Ben Jonson's Conversations with William Drummond, ed. by David Laing, Shakespeare Society Publication, 8-10, p. xi. ^ Hall, Virgidemiarum, Lib. I, Sat. VIII. 3 Meres, Palladis Tamia, New Shakspere Society, Series 4, I, p. 163; Bodenham, Belvedere or The Garden of the Muses, Spenser Society, Vol. 17, in the address to the Reader. ^ Guilpin, Skialetheia, Satyre VI, ed. Grosart, Occasional Issues, Vol. VI, p. 63. * England's Parnassus, ed. Charles Crawford. Mr. Crawford says that twenty-two of Markham's quotations have been traced; twenty- five are un traced. Cf. p. xliii. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 131 family did not come in with the Conqueror; that he was a soldier, serving at Cadiz, and also in Ireland and Flanders; that he was in sympathy with the Puritans ; that he was an admirer of the ill-starred Essex; that he was a man familiar with the country pursuits; that he loved trees, flowers, herbs, and possessed a fund of quaint learning in regard to their practical uses; that he was a man of wide reading and culture, expressing a preference for Cambridge; that he had even before this work written poetry; that he was devoted to his father; that he lived on the "outmost side" of the East Angles; and that he possessed a homely, vernacular style. During Markham's lifetime we find his name, Jervase, spelled in various ways. The Stationers' Register, when it gives the author of the newly licensed work, frequently refers to him as J. M., I. M., or Jervis Markham.^ Many of his works, when pubhshed, printed his Christian name be- ginning with a J. or an I., the latter in the Elizabethan period often being used in place of the capital J. His first extant work,^ A Discourse of Horsmanshippe, has its dedi- cation to his father signed Jervas Markham. Again, Sir Richard Grinvile Knight has some of its prefatory son- nets signed J. M., but its dedication to "lord Montioy" has Markham's name at length commencing with a J. Devoreux or Vertues Teares,^ Teares of the Beloved,^ some copies of The Dumbe Knight,^ and the forty-seven quotations in England's Parnassus, assigned to Markham, are all signed with the Christian name commencing with a J. or 1 Examples: 22 May, 1613; 25 June, 1619. 2 1593. 3 1597. * 1600. Cf. the original title-page in Grosart, Fuller Worthies' Li- brary, Vol. II, p. 490. * Cf. Fleay, Biographical Chronicle of the English Stage, Vol. II, p. 58. 132 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS with the initial J. or I.^ The entry of his burial in the Register of St. Giles, Cripplegate, is conclusive proof that the J. was frequently and authoritatively used. The burial entry reads, "1636/7 Feb. 3. Jarvis Markham, gent." 2 An entry in the Stationers' Register ^ promising to cease writing treatises on specified subjects, and a letter written in support of his father in a family contention * are both signed Geruis. But in these two instances the name is printed, and Markham, a penman of no mean skill, fond of ornamental flourishes, possibly took more pleasure in print- ing the capital G with its possibilities of ornamentation than the simple J. or I. It may also be of interest to state at this point that the printed capital G in both these documents can be found many times with all its peculiarities in The Newe Metamorphosis where a capital G is used.^ It is also a matter of some significance that the Christian name of Chaucer is spelt in this manuscript commencing with a J.^ The title "gent" we have seen used in his burial entry. It is also found in the entry just mentioned in the Stationers' Register and in some of the dedications to his works. Mark- ham was of an eminent family and had the right to use the title "gentleman." Indeed, The Newe Metamorphosis sev- ^ I have not been able to verify some of the above statements con- cerning the speUing of his Christian name because of the dearth of Mark- ham material in this country and the difficulty of communicating with England during the war. I base some of my statements on ma- terial found in Warton, History of the English People, Vol. IV, p. 113, note k; J. Payne Collier; Fleay, etc. '^ Cf. Grosart, Fuller Worthies' Library, Vol. II, p. 485. ^ Cf. Arber's Transcript, Vol. Ill, p. 317. ^ Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65). ^ At this period formation of letters and spelling of words present many difficulties. In the manuscript under discussion we have two very dissimilar capital G's, M's, J's, etc., often used on the same page. 6 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 90 verso. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 133 eral times expresses with much bitterness the author's contempt for the "new rich" of his period, and he attacks at length the practice of King James to sell to any one with the money to pay the fee the title of gentleman or knight- hood.^ Since J. M. gent, could easily refer to Jervase Markham, the next point to consider in the search for the author is the couplet written at the bottom of the page and having no connection with the poem itself, "My name is Frenche, to tell yo" in a worde Yet came not in with Conqueringe William's sworde." These words, as we have seen,^ have caused the few who have glanced at this work much confusion; indeed, it was these two lines that deterred Mr. HalUwell-PhiUipps, and probably Mr. Grosart and Mr. Bullen, from attributing The Newe Metamorphosis definitely to John Marston. This couplet was evidently jotted down as an after- thought. On the same foHo the author addresses his "Booke," and directly above these two verses is the begin- ning of "The Epistle dedicatorie." J. M. knew, without doubt, that his initials, J. M., would tell his public the identity of the author. If J. M. were Markham, he had already, even before 1600, won an enviable place for popu- larity among his contemporaries. If the title-page were written in 1615, the time of the completion of the manuscript from internal evidence, he occupied even a more assured position among those vending their wares among the various publishers.^ The author, in this instance, was indulging 1 Examples of this are Vol. II, Book IV, fos. 71 verso ff., and Book VII, fos. 262 verso ff. 2 Chap. II. * The date 1600 on the two title-pages and the crossing out and rewriting of parts of these pages make it probable that they were written in 1600. 134 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS in a bit of pleasantry with his future readers. He possessed, as we know, a fund of happy humor; he took dehght in indulging in a little innocent raillery concerning his French name, Gervase. He undoubtedly alluded to the French- Enghsh combination in his name in much the same spirit as Matthew Arnold, who also occasioned confusion to some too careful commentators, spoke of the " Semetico-Saxon " mixture of his.^ In both cases the reference is obvious. In addition, this short couplet smacks of an honest pride in family; it tells of the origin of the Markhams. We have seen how Claron, their ancestor, was a follower of Edward the Confessor, but how, in spite of the Conquest, he kept part of his lands in West and East Markham in Nottingham under the Norman retainer of William, Roger de Busli. His descendants took pride in their antiquity, and both the brother of Jervase and the later writers of the family genealogy mention conspicuously this fact of ante- dating the Conqueror .2 There is some possibility, however, that Jervase Markham may have referred in this couplet to the fact that the early ancestors of his family had called themselves Lords of Marc- ham and had written their name De Marcham for many generations. Personally, I feel the first explanation con- cerning his name Jervase being French in origin is the more plausible and is sufficient. The next point to be considered is the fact that J. M. gent, was a soldier, serving his queen in Ireland, in Flanders, and in the expeditions against Spain in 1596 and 1597.^ ^ Cf. Arnold, Study of Celtic Literature, and Notes and Queries, 9 Series, No. 7, p. 77; Vol. VI, pp. 466, 491, 513. ^ Francis Markham, Genealogy or Petigre of the Markhams; D. F. Markham, A History of the Markham Family; Sir C. Markham, Markham Memorials. » Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 73 ff. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 135 That Markham was a soldier, we know; that he served in Ireland and in Flanders is a matter of record.^ It is most significant, however, that in Ireland he was stationed in Connaught. Sir John Harrington, his courtier-cousin and the godson of Elizabeth, who served under Essex and was knighted by him in the campaign against Tyrone, writes to a friend that when the English forces in Ireland were divided, some were sent to Munster, "some to Lesly, many into the North and a few into Connoght; it was partly my hap, and partly my choice, for Sir Griffin Markham's^ sake, and three Markhams more to go into Connoght"^; and later he adds that the "three sons of my cousin Robert Markham of Cottam have in their several kinds and places offered me such courtesies, kindnesses, nay such services, as if they held me for one of their best friends in Ireland."* When it is recalled that /. M. also tells the reader he served in Connaught, that he frequently refers to its wild kerns and its scenery, that he places several of his stories in this environment, even relating how Galway, its principal town, was founded,^ there seems to be some reason to assume that he was Markham. In addition to serving in Ireland and Flanders, J. M., as we have seen, took part in the storming of Cadiz. In- deed, he describes at length that expedition. No mention has been made of Markham taking part in this adventure. We know from contemporary records how it attracted the plumed and ruffled courtier, the reckless man of fortune, 1 Markham, A History of the Markham Family, p. 34; Cornelius Brown, Lives of Nottingham Worthies, pp. 167-169, etc. 2 A cousin to Jervase and later implicated in the Bye Plot. He was a colonel of horse in this expedition. ' Harrington, Nugae Antiquae, Vol. I, pp. 253-254. * Ibid., Vol. I, p. 260. The brothers were Francis, Jervis, and Godfrey. ' Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 76 ff. 136 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS and, indeed, many of those who looked for glory and hazard under the inspiring leadership of the Howards, Vere, Ralegh, and Essex. Sir Francis Vere brought a thousand veterans from Flanders to help the English arms,^ and Jervase Mark- ham, who had been serving under him, may have been one of these; or like his great contemporary, Donne, he may have been among those many "most worthy knights and gentle- men of great worth "^ who, craving excitement in those "spacious days," sought it against the Spaniard. But Markham has left us record in his prose works that he had visited both Spain and the Azores. Spain, even after the treaty of peace in 1604, was not a safe place for English travelers, who frequently fell victim to the Inqui- sition,^ and only in rare instances did a Protestant from the despised British Isles venture to hazard the danger. Con- sequently, it can be advanced with a degree of certainty that when Markham, a professional soldier, serving under both Essex and Vere, tells his readers "I have for mine own part seen in the Island of Azores, certain very large caves, or pits made under the earth . . . for mine own part, I my self digged up many of these pits" ■* in order to see how corn is preserved; that "I my self observed both in Spain and in the neighboring Islands"^ the growing of lentils; and how goats are preserved in Spain and the Island of Azores "for the chase and hunting," ^ he probably followed his leaders in the expedition against Cadiz and the Azores, ■ and in this 1 C. R. Markham, The Fighting Veres, p. 218. Sir William Monson says that "one thousand of the prime soldiers of the Low Countries followed Vere in the Azores expedition. Cf. Churchill, A Collection of Voyages and Travels, Vol. Ill, p. 172." 2 Hakluyt's Voyages, London, 1810 ed., Vol. II, p. 19. 3 J. G. Montague, History of England, 1603-1660, p. 53. •* Markham's His Farewel to Husbandry, London, 1684, pp. 90-91, « Ibid., p. 98. ^ Markham, Cheap and Good Husbandry, p. 96. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 137 way observed those customs which he later spoke of in his several pamphlets. And so J. M., the soldier, serving in Spain, Ireland, and Flanders, may well be Jervase Markham, soldier, adven- turer, and scholar, following the fortunes of war in the same lands. It has also been shown that /. M. was a Puritan or, at least, had sympathy for that rapidly growing and harshly lampooned sect,^ and that frequently in The Newe Metamor- phosis he not only defends the sober descendants of Martin Marprelate, but he also surprises the reader of some of his flagrantly obscene stories by his devout and childUke faith in God. Markham, also, is conspicuous for a tranquil, quaint piety, so refreshing and simple that it lends much charm to his counsels to the horseman, the farrier, the housewife, the angler, and all the varied company whom he addresses. Even the "Labourer" in the most humble of field work is directed "to go about all with prayer and composedness of spirit."- Examples of this quiet faith are legion. In one of his happiest pamphlets,^ in speaking of angling, he says the sport which is the "most comely, most honest, and giveth the most Hberty to Divine Medi- tations and that without all question is the art of Angling which having ever been most hurtlessly necessary, hath been the sport of Recreation of Gods Saints, of most holy fathers, and of many worthy and Reverend Divines, both dead, and at this time breathing." A little later he writes that "Dice- play, Cards, Bowls, or any other sport where money is the goal to which men's minds are directed, what can mans avarice there be accounted other then a familliar Robbery, each seeing by deceit to couzen and spoyl others of the bliss 1 Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 83 ff. 2 Grosart, Fuller Worthies', Vol. II, p. 469. ^ Country Contentments, 1683 ed., pp. 47 ff. 138 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS of means which God hath bestowed to support them and their famiUes." ^ Again, in speaking of the "inward quah- ties" of a good angler, he saya that in order to remove "melancholy, heaviness of his thoughts, or the pertur- bations of his own fancies" he should sing "some godly Hymn or Anthem, of which David gives him ample ex- amples." ^ The angler must also "ever think where the waters are pleasant, and anything likely, that there the Creator of all good things hath stored up much of plenty." Again in his The English House-wife, Markham tells the reader that the "Mother and Mistress of the family" must above all things "be of upright and sincere Religion, and in the same both zealous and constant ... to utter forth by the instruction of her life, those fruits of good living, which shall be pleasing both to God and his Creatures. . . . But let your English House-wife be a godly, constant, and rehgious woman, learning from the worthy Preacher, and her Husband, those good examples which she shall with all careful diligence see exercised amongst her Servants, . . . a small time, morning and evening, bestowed in prayers, and other exercises of Religion will prove no lost time at the weeks end." ^ Surely in these words speaks a devout man, one who carries his belief in his Maker into his daily activities. He may not be a Puritan ; but at least it is probable he was in sympathy with their earnest faith and resented the unjust attacks on them. This tone of unaffected piety colors even his early poetry; The poem of Poems, or Sions Muse, The Teares of the Beloved, and Marie Magdalen's Lamentations show this interest in religion. The conclusion to his words "To the Christian ^ Country Contentments, p. 48. 2 75^^^ p 60. ' The English House-wife, p. 2. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 139 Reader,^' prefacing The Teares of the Beloved, is of interest in this connection. Markham writes, "The Highest con- tinue His favors and graces unto His Church, and shield us in these dangerous dayes from His and our enemies, Amen." ^ He wrote these words in 1600 when England, especially- puritan England, feared a return to Roman Catholicism. Elizabeth, old and feeble, was more than ever the center of intrigue; Essex, his campaign in Ireland a failure, threat- ened open rebellion ; Spain seemed planning another attempt at invasion, and, aided almost openly by papists in England, was aiming to keep the succession from the Protestant James. Indeed, so fearful were the Puritans of this that at the queen's death in 1603 they embarked in boats to prevent a popish invasion from Flanders.^ And Markham also resembles J. M. in the intermingling of ribald jest and coarse tales with earnest attacks on social and moral abuses. He can turn with zest from religious poetry and expressions of faith in God to the calculating cynicism of the bawd, Collaquintido, and the revolting filth of the clerk, President.^ The attacks on swearing, gambling, excessive drinking, disrespect to parents in juxta- position to hcentious tales are found so frequently in both the manuscript and in his accepted works that even to the casual reader The Newe Metamorphosis seems to resemble the work of Markham. J. M.'s devotion to Essex is also connected with his attitude toward the Puritans, since Essex was the accepted leader of this party and the most bitter and relentless op- ponent of Spain. It was Essex who for several years kept in secret communication with the young king of Scotland, fostering his succession in England. /. M., as we have seen, 1 Grosart, Fuller Worthies', Vol. II, p. 492. ^ Trevelyan, England under the Stuarts, p. 75. ' The Dumbe Knight. 140 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS praised Essex ^ in the strongest terms, denying that he was a traitor, even in spite of the court's disapproval of any mention of the ill-starred favorite.^ But Markham, if he were J. M., had even additional reasons to express this admiration. As we know, he had served under Essex in Ireland and had possibly fought with him in France.^ He translated from the French Devoreux or Vertues Teares, a lament for Walter Devoreux, the brilliant younger brother of Essex; he dedicated Sions Muse to Essex' stepdaughter, the child of Sidney; and later in life he included Essex in his Honour in his Perfection,^ together with his friend and comrade, the Earl of Southampton. He had many reasons to praise the brilliant Essex, indeed, to be grateful to him. He paid his debt in the only way in his power. This loyalty to Essex, found in both the work of Markham and in the manuscript, strengthens the belief that Markham was J. M. The next point to be considered scarcely needs discussion. J. M. knew the country and its pursuits, and he loved trees, flowers, and herbs, possessing a fund of quaint learning con- cerning their practical uses.^ He was a lover of the out-of- doors, a man of abounding vitality and with a catholicity of interests, especially in rural affairs. Markham, as we know, gained his reputation and probably earned his liveli- hood because of his intimate knowledge of country life. His amazing number of treatises on the horse, his pamphlets on husbandry, his works on country recreations, cures for 1 Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 87 ff. 2 The disapproval of Essex continued for several years after his execution. Daniels' Philotas was suppressed in 1606 because of its commendation of Essex. The passage written by J. M. comes in what seems to be early work. ^ Francis Markham tells us in his Memorials of his receiving a captaincy from Essex in France. 4 1624. 6 Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 88 ff. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 141 cattle and recipes for the housewife are well known. The significant fact is that J. M. possesses the same wealth of information and the same kind of information, Mark- ham's charming advice to the angler/ that he "ought to be a general Scholler, and seen in all the Liberal Sciences," is not only loosely paraphrased by that most delightful of all fishermen, the gentle Walton, but also in the playful lines already quoted from The Newe Metamorphosis in which the rude Martin is told, fEshing's an Arte.^ And there are innumerable instances of this kind. J. M.'s frequent lists of incentives for lust ^ are found almost paral- leled in President's recommendations to the miserly Prate.* Markham ^ tells his reader to use "chast thoughts" in June; in July to shun "Wine, Women" and all "wantonness"; and in August to beware of "feasts" and all excitement. J. M. warns us that three months after May "faire Venus is forbid to play."^ The fondness for flowers and herbs and their uses,^ the pleasure in animals, the interest in tillage, the delight in quaint lore found so abundantly in the manu- script, all add to the conviction that Markham is the author of The Newe Metamorphosis. The fact that J. M. was a man of wide reading, that he knew many languages, referring to books in French, Italian, Latin, and Spanish,^ is true not only of Markham but also of many of his contemporaries. The reference, however, 1 Country Contentments, p. 60. 2 Cf. Chap. Ill, p. 93. 3 Cf. Chap. Ill, p. 98. * The Dumbe Knight, p. 427. Dodsley, Old Plays, 1780. ^ Farewel to Husbandry, 1684, pp. 123 ff. 6 Vol. I, Part II, fol. 10. ^ Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 95 ff. 8 Cf. Chap. Ill, p. 102. 142 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS to many names, especially of writers of former centuries, so common in the manuscript and in the accredited works of Markham, is of significance; for this assumption of authority based on extensive consultation of sources is typical of the work of both J. M. and of Markham. In The Newe Meta- morphosis frequent references are made to classical authors, to writers of chronicles, and especially to Church authorities, but sources for the more popular material are not mentioned. This same thing is true of Markham. He is a clever and at times an unscrupulous pilferer of other men's work; but he is also most ready to concede that he has a source, especially if such a concession might make his wares of more import- ance. Pliny, as also in The Newe Metamorphosis, is often referred to in the pamphlets, and other classical authors are mentioned.^ Former writers on agricultural subjects are frequently named. In the space of a page, in a treatise of how to enrich the soil,^ he refers to Sir Walter Henly, a former authority on husbandry, and quotes in Latin from Columella. The title-page to his Maison rustique, or The Country farme,^ is characteristic; he tells the reader that it was first ''compiled in the French tongue by C. Stevens and J. Liebault," but that it is "now new revised, cor- rected, and augmented . . . out of the works of Serres, his Agriculture, Vinet, his Maison Champestre . . . Allyterio . . . Grillo . . . and other authors." Truly this is an im- posing list of names. French, Spanish, and Italian are im- partially included to impress the buyer with Markham's mastery of his subject. When we turn to The Newe Metatnorphosis ^ we meet 1 Example: The Inrichment of the Weald of Kent, pp. 6, 12, 1683 edition. 2 Ibid., pp. 9-10. 3 1616 « Cf. Vol. I, Part II, Book X, and Vol. II, Book X. The long list of authors and of books concerning the Church in Vol. II, fos. 53 verso ff., is an admirable example. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 143 again this pleasure, scarcely unctuous because it is so naive, of displaying an acquaintance with a remarkable variety of sources drawn from many lands. J. M. speaks with the same tone of authority; he demands from his reader the same admiration for his infallibility in his field; he over- whelms his audience. As the "barker" of to-day forces at least a grudging attention from the passer-by and often wheedles even from the wary a coin or two, so J. M., like Markham, compels attention and a certain unwilling respect by his clever marshaling of pretentious names. Then, too, the fact that J. M. speaks of Cambridge as England's "most famous University" and mentions only three of its colleges. Trinity, St. John's, and Queen's Chapel,^ is interesting in connection with what we know of Markham. Markhana's home was not many miles north of the great university, and he must have visited it often both in travel- ing to the capital and for other causes. He had every reason to honor Cambridge; Essex, his general and patron, went to Trinity, and his brother Francis tells us in his Memoranda that his father "put me to Trinity College in Cambridge,'' but because he "contemned" his tutor he "went to y® warrs." Indeed, Jervase himself may have been a student at this university. His knowledge of the classics and even his sympathy for the Puritan cause would add strength to this supposition. There is no record left at Trinity College of his brother Francis' enrollment; ^ that of Jervase may also have been lost. The statements of J. M. that he is a poet, indeed a "poore poet" and a writer of "course Ryme," and that he has earlier sought public recognition with verse, but that his "purse was bare," also agree with what we know of Markham. Like the author's mention of Cambridge, this agreement 1 Cf. Chap. Ill, p. 103. ^ Athenae Cantabrigienses mentions no Markham. 144 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS does not materially strengthen the argument that /. M. and Markham were one, but it assuredly removes any discrepancy and shows that in all the references in the manuscript to the author there is nothing to weaken the assertion that Markham wrote The Newe Metamorphosis. Markham also had written poetry before 1600. He had published by the beginning of the new century his Thyrsis and Daphne,^ The Most Honorable Tragedie of Sir Richard Grinvile, Knight,^ The Poem of Poems, or Sio7is Muse,^ Devoreux, or Vertues Teares,* and The Teares of the Beloved.^ Indeed, since many of the quotations assigned to him in England's Parnassus cannot be traced in his extant work,^ it is probable that besides Thyrsis and Daphne additional work of Markham has been lost. In his pamphlets, as it has been pointed out, he emphasizes with delight his eminent qualifications to write on the subject concerned. But in his verse he assumes a different attitude; with apparent sincerity he takes on the humility of J. M. In spite of the fact that he had won recognition for his poetry, he calls his Muse "harsh and untuned," his talent "slender and simple," ^ and he writes to his kinsman who had called him a "poeticall lyinge knave" that the love of poetry, "thoughe in others it be excellent, in myself I loathe and utterlye abhor it."^ Modesty and self-deprecation among authors were not general in the time of Markham; but with Markham as the J. Ai. of the manuscript, we can understand the references in the prologue to "Myne infante Muse" and "my newe- borne poesie," and to the many slighting Hnes concerning his poetical gift. 1 Entered in the Stationers' Register, 1593. 2 1595. » 1595. " 1597. ' 1600. * Cf. England's Parnassus, ed. Charles Crawford, p. xUii. ' Cf. The Teares of the Beloved, Grosart, Fuller Worthies' Library, Vol. II, p. 492. 8 Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65). THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 145 The fact that J. M. appears to be a devoted son to a much loved father ^ is equally true of Jervase Markham. Con- cerning his love for his father, we know that he had much respect and affection for him. His first extant work, A Discourse of Horsmanshippe, is dedicated to Robert Markham of Gotham, and in the letter, already mentioned, he writes to the uncle who maligned him that he was ''trulye my father's sonne, so have I trulye a feelinge of my father's indignities." - A frank, generous man was Jervase Mark- ham, attractively human in his strength and weakness. His defense of his father accords well with his unaffected piety and makes his reader forgive much of his harmless bluster and swagger. And when J. M. exclaims concerning imnatural sons : I would not banish them that thus should deale least parents indulgence, in tyme should heale this plaugey scare, & then rewake againe but in a boate I'de set them on the mayne w[i]thout or sails to drive, or meate to eate bound hande & foote, 't would pull downe stomacks greate and make these monsters of man kynde forbeare if not for love, yet at the least for feare. Not w[i3thout cause men say, love doth discende downe to the childe, but backward not ascence but shall sonnes therfore thus unnaturall prove? is this the recompense of paternall love? ^ surely it may be Markham who arraigns "this enormous vice." Indeed, it is possible that in this passage, in which he is telhng the story of an ungrateful eldest son, he might have had in mind that ''fatal unthrift," his own eldest 1 Cf. Chap. Ill, pp. 103 ff. 2 Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65). 3 Vol. II, fol. 105. The writer continues at much length with ex- amples of good sons. He starts with "Eneas." 146 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS brother, Robert, who utterly ruined the fortunes of his family.^ The next point to be considered is the statement of J. M. that he lived on the "outmost side" of the East Angles.^ The territory of the East Angles not only comprised the modern counties of Norfolk, Suffolk, Cambridge, and Ely,' but it extended north and west over the vast expanse of marshlands to the higher ground of Nottingham.'* Floria- censis, writing in about 970, says that East Anglia is almost surrounded by water.^ It has the ocean on the east and southeast, and in the north an immense tract of morass which rises near the center of England and falls from the level of the country to the ocean in a course of more than one hundred miles. The "outmost side " of the East Angles, "yet not in Essex," necessarily leads one to the conclusion that J. M. lived near Newark-upon-Trent, the northwestern border of East Anglia. As Markham was born at Gotham and undoubtedly spent much of his life in the vicinity of this little village, a few miles south of Newark, J. M., in this instance, seems to give additional evidence that he might be Jervase Markham. The last point to be considered — the homely, vernacular style — scarcely needs discussion. The charm of Markham in his prose works and in most of his narrative verse is this homely simplicity, this fondness for the rugged vernacular of his forefathers who did not "come in" with the Con- queror. The Newe Metamorphosis is essentially a collection of stories, not told in the stilted, affected fashion of The ^ Thoroton, History of Nottinghamshire, Vol. I, p. 344. 2 Cf. Chap. Ill, p. 104. 3 Lingard, History of England, 1912, p. 16 and map, p. 18. * Cf. Greene, The Conquest of England, 1884 edition; the map, p. 316, shows East Anglia almost touching the Trent at Newark. ^ Camden, Britannia, p. 152. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 147 Teares of the Beloved or the Sir Richard Grinvile, both written by an ambitious young aspirant for fame, but expressed with all the racy vigor of the Markham at home with his subject and understanding his audience. And not only is its colloquiahsm that of Markham, but the folklore, the proverbs, the pithy turns of expression, which are found so abundantly in The Newe Metamorphosis and lend it flavor, are all typical of him. But even the delight in classical allusions and heavy con- ceits which mars the serious poetical work of Markham can be found in The Newe Metamorphosis. Reference to the mythology of Greece and Rome becomes wearisome and, at times, puzzles the readers; for frequently some love- seeking divinity is called by several names. And when the author attempts a "grand manner," he betrays all the faults of Markham's early verse in the labored metaphor and the bizarre conceits,^ interrupted by strikingly homely and characteristic lines, devoid of all the lilt and melody of poetic inspiration. In this connection, it is interesting to compare The Teares of the Beloved with the stanzas in The Newe Metamorphosis, written by an ardent lover to his cruel mistress.^ These lines are the only exception to the couplet in which the manuscript is written. Its stanza, made famous by Shak- spere in Venus and Adonis, is the same as that of Markham's two sacred poems, and the almost exclusive prevalence of the masculine rime, the clogged movement of the verse, the prosaic expressions, the labored ornamentations in these poems, are markedly similar in spite of the widest divergence of subject. 1 Examples: the prayer of thanksgiving of Elizabeth after the defeat of the Armada, and the eulogy of the queen, Vol. I, Part II, fos. 135 verso ff. 2 Vol. II, fos. 17 ff. 148 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS I quote two stanzas at random from the manuscript and from The Teares of the Beloved: "Of rocky substance did Pigmalion make a faire woman, was 't not wondrous strange? O fairer creature's nowe turn'd to a stone from her senceless deedes wih never change senceles of my soules vexed misseries caused by beauties charmed witcheries. Grante, grante yee gods, that her harde diamond harte may metamorphosed be to softest mould greate Cupid thou helpe w*** thy burning darte she burne w**^ heate, rather than frize w*^ colde grante, grante, yee heavenly powers this my request w''^ if you doe I shalbe ever blest." ^ "My sweetest Sw^eete, my Lord, my love, my life, The World's brighte lampe, farre clearer then the sunne, What may this meane ; cannot I end this strife. This ranckorous spight, by wicked Jewes begunne? man most pure, for wretches most forlorne, Must my great God to men be made a scorne? ^ Suffer my speech, who suffer now with grief e: Death void of death ; for death here liveth still : Barr'd from all hope, shut out from all reliefe. Most sad complaints, my hearing now doth fill; 1 have no rest, but in unrest remaine : No tongue, or penne, can well declare my paine." ^ In conclusion, it is evident that whenever the manuscript becomes autobiographical or plainly indicates the prefer- ences and the temperament of its author, it seems to point to Markham. Markham had the right by birth to call 1 Vol. II, fos. 17 ff. ^ Grosart, Fuller Worthies', p. 526. 3 Ibid., p. 519. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 149 himself a gentleman, and he signed himself J. M., I. M., G. M. indiscriminately; in fact the entry of his burial calls him Jarvis Markham; his name was French, and still his family did not come to England with the Conqueror; he was a soldier, serving in Spain, Flanders, and in Connaught, Ireland; he was a man of simple piety, in sympathy with the Puritans, and an admirer of Essex; he was an outdoor man, knowing the problems of the agricultural laborer, the pursuits of the country gentleman, and he possessed a fund of quaint knowledge concerning horticulture and of traditional folklore; he was a man of wide reading with a fondness of displaying unusual sources of information; he preferred Cambridge to Oxford, and Trinity College he selected for particular mention: he was also devoted to his father; he was a poet conscious of his limitations, who lived on the "outmost" border of East Anglia; and he possessed a simple, colloquial style, often hampered by an excessive use of classical allusions. There are some additional reasons, suggestive if not au- thoritative, why we may ascribe this manuscript to Mark- ham. For instance, when Miss Toulmin-Smith ^ asserts that one who was notorious for his thefts from others could not be the author of The Newe Metamorphosis because of the hnes in the Prologue: to filchinge lynes I am a deadly foe, she really advances a strong argument in favor of Markham, who, conscious of his shortcomings, was constantly pro- claiming in his ingenious prefaces innocence of this very offense. An example of this can be found in several of his treatises where he denies repeating what he had written earlier or disclaims plagiarism, in spite of the fact that he 1 The Shakspere Allusion-Book, Vol. II, p. 483. 150 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS repeats almost verbatim what can be found in his other works. He writes in one place: To the best disposed Readers Many and sundry may be the constructions and censures of this Booke (Courteous and well disposed Reader) because I have in former time written so largely of the subject contained herein; but I would have no man mistaken in his own prejudicate opinion, but truly understand, that this is neither Epitome, Relation, Ex- traction, nor Repetition either of mine own, or any Author whatso- ever.^ And again, in His Farewell to Husbandry,^ he asserts: "nor do I in this Book intend to write any title that is in them [former works] contained; for as I love not Tautology, so I hate to wrong my friend." Markham protests overmuch his honesty. The Sta- tioners' Register Company, as has already been mentioned, attempted to curtail his unscrupulous deceit of the public.^ Surely he was the man who would virtuously proclaim : to filchinge lynes I am a deadly foe. In the next place the letter of Markham to his uncle, who had called him a "poeticall andlyinge knave,"* although it is, most unfortunately, not in script, but is written with great care and skill in print letters, still throws interesting light on the question of authorship. J. M., as we can see, was proud of his skill as a penman. The many flourishes and the different scripts in The Newe Metamorphosis, and, indeed, the legibility and clearness of the long manuscript, all make this evident. This letter, carefully composed and sent to an irate uncle, bears evidence of labored effort both ^ Country Contentments, 1683 edition. ^ 1684 edition, p. i. 3 "24th daie of July, 1617." * Cf. Grosart, Fuller Worthies' Library, Vol. II, p. 473. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 151 in its wording and in its appearance. The printing is excel- lent, and it is of importance to us in determining the author- ship of the poem, because, in spite of the fact of not being in script, the slant, the formation of the letters, especially of the capitals, and its individuahties can all be found in The Newe Metamorphosis. J. M. has a marked and repeated tendency to continue the downward slope of the capitals such as A, M, F, T, etc., with a sharp angle to the right upon the line. This eccentricity is found in the letter,^ especially in the capital A. This characteristic is so unusual that it strengthens materially the conviction that J. M. is Markham. The rancorous hatred of Spain which constantly inter- rupts the stories and crops out even in narratives con- cerning the pagan deities, although it was characteristic of the period, is also of interest in this connection. Markham had weighty reasons for this abhorrence. His leader and patron, Essex, was the chief of the adversaries of Spain in England, and furthermore, Markham 's varied career as a soldier had brought him into actual conflict with Spaniards and their machinations, for even in Ireland Spanish gold and Spanish priests helped to inflame the volatile peasantry and the rebellious earls. He had undoubtedly seen many in- stances of Spanish cruelty, especially in Flanders, and the vitriolic outbursts concerning the treachery and cruelty of the dangerous adversary of England, although they do 1 Handwriting experts tell me that it is impossible to affirm with certainty that the printed hand and the script are the same. They agree, however, that the same mannerisms are found in both the letter and the manuscript, and believe that /. M. is Markham. Mr. Wilmer R. Leech, Manuscript Division of the New York Public Li- brary, was especially struck by the peculiarity mentioned above. In- teresting pages for comparison are Vol. I, Part I, fos. 3, 20 verso, 36 verso, 78; Part II, fos. 1 verso, 2 verso, 134 verso: Vol. II, fol. 142. 152 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS not furnish any conclusive proof that J. M. was Markham, still strengthen the evidence already advanced. Furthermore the fact that in spite of J. M.'s detestation of the Papacy and its followers, and of the support lent to the schemes of Rome to undermine Protestantism in England, he speaks in only a few lines ^ of the so-called Bye Plot against James, in contrast to the many pages devoted to the iniquities of the Gunpowder Plot and other attempts against the life of either Elizabeth and James or against the Protes- tant faith, lends additional weight to the belief that Mark- ham was J. M. Sir Griffin Markham, the cousin of Jervase, and the most conspicuous member of his house, a haughty, restless soldier and follower of Essex, who was implicated in this uprising, sadly impaired the family fortunes, according to Francis Markham,^ "whereat our name disgraced." Although the author of the Bye Plot was a Roman Catholic priest, WilKam Watson, who was angered because James continued to levy recusancy fines against his coreligionists, most of those implicated were not of his faith. Ralegh had favored the Puritans; Lord Grey was a leader of the non-conformists; and Brooke, the brother of Lord Cobham, was a stanch Protestant.^ J. M. mentions the conspirators by names, deplores their "blacke conspiracie," and de- clares that death should be the punishment; still he turns, after a short half page, with apparent relief to the "Powder Treason" and hurls with unflagging zest anathemas at "Baynam," "Guydo Faulks," "Catsby," and especially Garnet, who had betrayed the Bye Plot to the king. Indeed, much of the fawning and servile praise of the unkingly James, which occurs at frequent intervals in The 1 Vol. II, fol. 198 verso. * Memoranda. Cf. D. F. Markham, A History of the Markham Family, pp. 31 ff. 3 F. C. Montague, Political History of England, Vol. VII, pp. 7 ff. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 153 Newe Metamorphosis ^ and cloys the reader, can be attributed to the fact that Jervase Markham, possibly himself sus- pected, was seeking pardon and renewed favor from his sovereign for his house. It is true that many of his greater contemporaries, especially at the death of Prince Henry, bartered self-respect and even damaged their reputation in the gross flattery they offered to the Stuart king. Mark- ham had brilliant company in the role of sycophant. Still, I like to believe that his attainted cousin furnished a more legitimate cause for seeking recognition from the court than that offered to some." We have seen that Markham helped in two plays, a comedy. The Dumbe Knight, and a tragedy, Herod and Anti- pater. J. M. also refers several times in a casual but in- timate way to the theater and to city life. In spite of his love for the country, he knew the town, as his vivid pictures of gambling, London bawds, and Lord Mayor processions all show. This famiharity with both the gayety of the city and the sports of the country gentleman is also peculiar to Markham who also was intimate with the life of the capital; indeed, he takes delight in showing this knowledge in his many works. Even in the short letter to his uncle, which has already been referred to, he resorts to a reference to the theater. He writes that the enemies of the Mark- ham family take pleasure in their dissension, and "doe as in a theater sytt and laughe at our ech others devouringe." ^ And even the lack of extended reference in the manu- script to contemporaries, which is a matter of regret to the 1 Vol. II, Book X, fos. 197 verso ff., are excellent examples of this. James is "A glorious Sum." 2 The entries to the Stationers' Register, 1612-1613, are interesting in this connection. Chapman, Donne, Drummond, Wither, Campion, were among this number. ^ Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65). 154 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS reader, is also, as it has been pointed out, typical of Mark- ham. J. M. may borrow from Sidney, Spenser, or the satire of the day, but he does not acknowledge his debt. When, however, he parallels with some closeness Venus and Adonis, he naturally brings the filthy clerk President in The Dumbe Knight to our mind, who also quotes at length from Shakspere's youthful amatory poem. Mr. Fleay ^ made the assertion, which never gained support, that Mark- ham because of certain dedications to Henry Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton, might be the rival poet to whom Shakspere referred.^ It has also been thought that Mark- ham by his use of Venus and Adonis was attacking Shakspere in The Dumbe Knight, especially censuring the salacious character of the Ovidian poem. But as Markham had published in 1593 a work ^ probably similar in character, and since he uses this poem in both The Dumbe Knight and in The Newe Metamorphosis, one may doubt any ulterior motive except a knowledge and an admiration for the verse of his contemporary. At least it is significant that in spite of the scarcity of reference to the writers of the time in both the manuscript and in the accepted works of Markham, both J. M. and Markham use with freedom the Venus and Adonis. And so even his denial of "thefts from others," his letter to his uncle, his detestation of Spain, his slight reference to the Bye Plot, his knowledge of the stage, and his lack of references to contemporary authors in the field of belles- lettres, further strengthen the belief that J. M. was Jervase Markham and that the popular author of diverse works in prose, poetry, and drama sought to seek favor in a new ^ Biographical Chronicle of the English Stage, pp. 59 ff. 2 Cf. Shakspere's Sonnets, 78-86. ' Thyrsis and Daphne. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 155 field ^ and possibly to enhance his reputation as a man of letters.^ Since it has been shown with some degree of probability that Markham is J. M., it is interesting to speculate again why an author, so anxious to bid for public recognition and so fertile in his resources, did not publish The Newe Meta- morphosis. There are possibly several reasons for this. In the first place, the work is often crude; it would need revision and Markham was a busy man. Then the very length of the manuscript, its rambhng character, its annoy- ing digressions and multiplicity of motives, would cause most pubHshers to hesitate before undertaking a venture which presaged pecuniary loss. Drayton, a far greater poet, in spite of royal and influential patrons, struggled against despair in his efforts to interest an indifferent pubhc in his Poly-Olbion. And Markham, in spite of an ingenuity almost amounting to genius in writing happy dedications and in seeking powerful patrons, would have encountered even greater obstacles. His poem was of greater length, and, in addition, was of such a nature that sponsors would be difficult to find. His animosity to Spain cropping out so frequently, though popular in 1600, would arouse bitterness in 1615, and possibly even lead to the suppression 1 This manuscript is not altogether a new type of work for Mark- ham. In his additions to Sidney's Arcadia he assumed the role of a writer of stories. ^ In the manuscript there are many attacks on the goldsmith. In Vol. I, Part II, fos. 28 verso ff., he states after a particularly severe attack, he means no offense and that he is a goldsmith. In Vol. II, fos. 154 verso ff., a goldsmith is again made a character in an obscene story. J. M. evidently hates the goldsmith, the usurer of the time. He says he is one probably in order to give him an opportunity to attack the craft. Marston makes sport of the goldsmith in Master Burnish in The Dutch Courtezan. Jonson in The Alchemist, Act. I, Sc. I, says that Drugger is "no goldsmith." 156 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS of his work and to prosecution. His "booke," intended to be dedicated to "a queen," the ardent enemy of Spain and of Roman CathoHcism, could scarcely gain favor at the hands of a Stuart king who had frequently coquetted with those of his mother's faith, and who, in spite of bitter opposition at home, was wooing the former implacable enemy. Indeed, The Neive Metamorphosis, in spite of its servile tone towards James and the royal family, is daringly bold at times in the outspoken condemnation of existing abuses.^ The Mark- ham family had suffered in its fortunes from the exile be- cause of treason of Sir Griffin Markham. Jervase was shrewd; he shunned trouble. But it is possible that Markham was deterred from publica- tion neither because of the extreme length of this manuscript, nor because of the bitter tone towards matters of royal con- cern. His Puritanism, always latent to a degree in his youth- ful works, but growing in the course of years in strength and conviction to a genuine, simple piety, would force him to recognize that the nature of the material of The Newe Metamorphosis was incongruous with his faith. The Mark- ham of 1615 was not the Markham of 1600. The gay narrator of salacious Ovidian tales and merry fabliaux had suffered a metamorphosis into a serious middle-aged English- man, struggling for a livelihood and fearful for the future of his comedy. Impetuous youth had merged into re- flective age. The careless follower of Essex and Vere, the reckless soldier at Cadiz, the swashbuckling adventurer of many campfires, the chivalrous and lusty lover of "Ma- tilda faire" had become a champion of his country's faith and honor against plotters at home and treacherous machin- ations abroad. He was no longer the Markham of ribald tales of illicit loves; he was the Markham of the fiery dia- 1 Vol. II has many examples of this. The plantations in Ulster and Virginia are attacked, the selling of honors, etc. THE AUTHOR OF THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 157 tribes against whatever is inimical to England. A man of corn-age always, he had become the patriot; an earnest, in a hmnble but honest way, of the overthrow of the despotic Stuarts, indeed, of the glory of England in her present struggle for the right. The rude couplet which concludes the manuscript. My leave I here of Poetrie doe take For I have writte untill my hande doth ake. Finis.^ not only finishes The Newe Metamorphosis, but also announces Markham's farewell to the "feather-light"^ Muse at whose shrine he had modestly worshiped for many years. With characteristic grandiloquence and assumption of authority, he repeated at length^ before he wrote "Finis" the range of subjects treated in the thousands of lines. The labor of many years had come to an end. But was it a labor? Surely our author has poured out in these hastily written couplets his joy of youth and his meditation of age. The impetuous ardor of the EKzabethan adventurer, the daunt- less spirit so typical of those years of endeavor and achieve- ment, gradually give way to a bitter anger. He forgets the joyous intrigues of the easy-loving gods to become the loyal patriot and militant Christian. Still he always shows the intense curiosity for new experiences, the extravagant enthusiasm and valiant assurance so characteristic of his day; a day when literature was still to many an adventure or a means to political preferment; an era when men, their vaulting ambition recognizing no barriers, thought in con- tinents and wrote with the same lavish prodigality. He carries the stamp of his period. 1 Vol. II, fol. 268. ^ Letter in Lambeth Shrewsbury Papers (709, p. 65). 3 Vol. II, fos. 267 ff. .158 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS It is true that Markham in this work has levied con- tributions on all countries. Sources of the widest divergence have been drawn upon to furnish enjoyment or information. But chiefly in the many pages of The Newe Metmnorphosis he has revealed to us himself. He has left us a human document of little artistic worth when considered as poetry, but of some real importance as a record of a vital and trans- cendent age in the history of letters and of men. It may not add materially to our knowledge of that period, but it assuredly substantiates and at times amplifies our ac- quaintance with that crowded stage of EUzabethan Hfe and its galaxy of figures, Olympian in their splendid power and weaknesses. But The Newe Metamorphosis is worth consideration for other reasons. It gives to the student of literature a col- lection of stories, voluminous in bulk and comprehensive in theme, in which are found homely wisdom, engaging fun, scathing invective, generous admiration, simple devo- tion, and fervid patriotism. The manuscript, indeed, brings a new luster to the reputation of an interesting and attrac- tive personality. Markham has long been regarded as the authority of his day on rural occupations and recreations. He has given the student valuable information concerning the use of horses and the profession of the soldier. But in The Newe Metamorphosis he takes honorable place in another field in which he can justly claim an added appre- ciation. He may paint his canvas with a coarse brush, boldly splashing and smearing his effects; he may want subtlety and imagination; he may lack tenderness. Still his manly vigor, honest warmth, genuine appeal, and spon- taneous flow of vigorous, clear, and unstudied narrative give worth to the manuscript. The Newe Metamorphosis is of interest because it is the work of Markham; it is of value because of its own merits. CHAPTER VI SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS The Prologue ^ of The Newe Metamorphosis Uppon the pubhque stage, to Albions eye I here presente my newe-borne poesie not w*^ vaine glory puft to make me knowne or Indian-like w*^ feathers not myne owne to decke my selfe, as many use to doe to filchinge lynes I am a deadly foe. What then might make me undergoe this taske? t' unvizar those w''^^ secretly doe maske in self-conceipt, & their lewde actions showe that all the world their villanies may knowe. Not peevish envies hatefuU rodde to use and true-deservinge basely to abuse I scorne & hate, for vertue I would praise & vertuous men to heaven w*^ poems raise mallice I beare to none who e're me reade for having spoken, all myne anger's deade Myne infante Muse, longe studieng what to wright at first resolved, some bloody warres t' endighte but Love casierd ^ that thought w**^ his soft charme sayeing that warre's best, w"^ can doe noe harme my yeildinge mynde to him gave willinge eare but then straite wayes before me did appeare large volumes & whole libraries compleate of Love in lively colo''^, fyne & neate 1 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 5 ff. ^ Greene, Groatsworth of Wit, p. 28: "He was cassierde " — our cashiered. 159 160 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS w"*" dasht my former thoughts: and then thought I of Countryes strange I'le write a Historie the wicked world to lewdnes most enclyn'd banisht that thought as quickly as the wynde (the whirle wynde tempest) makes the dust to file farre from the place where it before did lie and in rough Satyres, I did then intende w*** smartinge lynes the world to reprehende. Nay then thought I, I may as well discover the cheatinge world under a comicke-lover for lovers lye, fawne, flatter & dissemble & doe indeed Theatrians most resemble. Then buskind Seneca, came to my mynde Tragedian-Uke, to write of deaths unkynde of government of States, cities & townes of Princes, Lords, of Peisants & of Clownes strange murderinge massacres, & poisons fell w"^ were devised by some foule feinde in hell. But this mee thought did not my humo'" fitte in these eche Pedant shewes his borrowed witte nay all of these I'le touche; both one & all not severally, but yet in generall even as a Flemish Gallemanfrey made of flesh, herbes, onyons, both of roote and blade so shall you fynde them in this booke conteinde for some strange thinge to write, I oncly ay'mde. I ne're sawe any of o"" Nation yet that me a patterne in this subiecte set nor but one stranger, Ovid alone was he that in this labo'' did incourage mee. I from my harte doe hate the Parasite even as the man that vertue doth backbite what then is fitter for these impious tymes then yrefull Satyres, clad in rugged rymes harsh though my lynes be, yo" shall substance fynde yo'^ that degenerating growe out of kynde SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 161 but smoother much unto the innocente for such to please it is my cheife intente though I goe on but in a hobhnge ryme yet I may happe to meete w**^ them some tyme whome better verse could never touche as yet & make them storme, & rage, & fume, & frette well, be it soe. I am content w*** all sucke they sweete honey out of bitter gall I have noe Poets pleasinge smoth-fyl'd veyne but a ragg'd Satyrists rougher hewen straine I not affecte curiositie of words nyce elloquence my subiecte not affourds Satyres are clothed in rough hairy skinnes even such as I, they & my Muse are twinnes nor yet will tyme p[er]]mit me to bestowe more labo"" on them, the rather for I knowe bookes of this nature being once p[er3used are then cast by & as brayed ware refused. What subiecte then, thinke yo" I did finde out to shewe the world infected w*^ the goute w*"^ pestilence, plague & rotten dropsie of Pride, Deceipte & itchinge Lecherie of superstition, Poperie & Treason the traders in w*^^ are quite voide of reason.^ Ingratefulnes & tongue-tipt-tatlers of Witchcraft, Lovers & damned Murderers & others moe? Their strange Mutation wrought by the Gods iuste Transformation. And first w**^ them as order doth require shape-changing-Jove, my feeble Muse enspire and let thy daughters & Mnemosines me of this heavy burden quickly ease Matilda fay re, guide thou my wandring quill who rul'est my harte, that vicious men & ill to their eternall shame I may disgrace & so extoll of righteous men the race,^ 1 This couplet is in the margin. 162 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS my poore dull witte, richly doe thou inspire inflame my braine w*^ Loves celestiall fyre that I may lively in my rymes expresse the secretst actions of rebyrednes and show the ugliest face of horrid vice that so here after it may none intice that I may vertues thine to th' world expresse for imitation, though thou art matchlesse, for beauty rare & spotles chastety well worth the praising to eternity.^ Gaynemed let me one cup of Nectar drinke, although I come not at the Thespian brinke Yo" Graces thre, come to Lucinas ayde that noe abortive birth make men afraide and sweete Minerva be thou at this birth to give th' ingenious reader pleasing mirthe. Venus describes to Cupid the type of lover pleasing to women : ^ give me the Lad, that loveth ioUity that midnight revellings delighteth in that dares take any Ladie by the chin lay her on th' lippes, & w*^ fewe words embrace that dares stande forth to take a Ladies case that's not faint-harted, like a gawdy Gull one that will doe 't, before he sayes he will w**^ labouringe-Hyndes, may Cravens goe in rankes whose suite-free-service, is not worth our thankes. cowardly-fainte-harte, nere faire Ladie got they are unworthy, such a happie lot the bold adventerous spirite, he shall obteine when asse the bashfoole humblie sues in vaine. Loves-lymits are not bounded in modestie prescriptions, rules, & lawes they doe defie 1 This couplet is in the margin. 2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 110 verso ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 163 for my best Soldier, boldly enter must into the lists, & straite begin to iust. But yet w[i]thall it doth us much behove that we take heede what servants we aprove all that p[ro]test their love, we must not take for some of them will make o"" harts to ake y"" Roaring-boyes, & all the Drunken crue my vailed Nuns must evermore eschewe. Mars woos the wanton nun Adiana : ^ I've bin a Soldier in hotte bloody warre wherin I got this bone-deepe-gaping-scarre faire flatteringe speeche we soldiers never use yet coyest Lasses, seldome us refuse we fitter are for action than for words 'tis soldier-like to handle naked swords if for y'^ Soldier you will enterteyne-me from killing battles I'le henceforth refreine-me He fight my battailes in y'' beautious campe I meane faire Venus sweete encounters, Rampe see that my pay be good. He freely fighte under y'" standard, or by day or nighte the fielde He pitch 's the feild bed where yo" lye if kild w*^ kyndnes, there He [willing] dye. Ive strength & might, viewe well my brawny armes these shall secure yo^ from all future harmes." The following is from a story told by the "Surgeon" on the return voyage from Cadiz : ^ Customes though bad when they received be that th'are allowed we all plainely see ffantasticks often fashions doe devise & sober mynded men take up their guise 1 Vol. II, fos. 47 ff. » Vol. II, fos. 138 ff . 164 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Custome's an other lawe & goes for good for they embrace it w°^ against it stood all this I say from tufts of haire nowe used used (said I) nay monstrously abused upon their foreheads men must drakes tayles weare I meane a tuft of most unseemely heare some like a drakes taile close turnd to the head some bolt upright as men w*^ feare adread some w*'^ longe locks w*^^ their bald pates doe cover some vowed locks to please their wanton lover as Tyme is pictur'd w*^ a Lock before so goe the riche so goe likewise the poore for th' poorest snakes will th' greatest imitate. This being a comon custome growne of late to weare longe foretoppes as most of yo" doe a clowne he's counted that w[i]thout doth goe. a plaine mechanicke fellowe followed it who neither had much wealth nor yet much witte comes from the Barbers where his haire was cut (in Fryday Streete he sawe a wondrous rut) w*^ his longe foretoppe standing bolt upright for such a Noddie an unseemely sighte. The author speaks of the good sense of Dulcimel and Amoretta in Arcadia : ^ If many had such states as had these two they would not like to country Shepeheards goe but like to Courtiers clad in silke & gold strout in puft pride, as full as they might holde. So nowe this ioUy, lovely, amarous payer had wealth & beauty more then many a gayer in gew-gawes & in garish wanton toyes they never plac'd, the least p[ar]t of their ioyes their clothing was of the most modest fashion they did not imitate ech forrein Nation 1 Vol. II, fos. 26 ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 165 apparrell handsome, seemely, neate, they use but welts & gardes, & tagges ^ they still refuse best cloth w[i]thouten lace, they ever weare in sobrest manner they did weare their heare both he & she, he smooth & seemly short not w**^ longe locks, th' abuse of Princes court nor yet was hers, laid out w**^ pCear]le & gold curiously curld, w**^ many a wanton fold nor did she weare the haire of Curtezans nor yet of Bauds (who former lightnes bannes) because more faire then hers, nor Beggars brattes [peo]pled w*^ Nittes, w*^^ growing beastly mattes, alas, she did not Tyre-makers haunte for devilish [perr]iwiggs that well might daunt even Mars himself should he o'' Ladyes meete w*** borrowed haire, most Gallants would him greete Nay I mistake, it is their owne they weare they did it buy & paid for it full deere their Peakes & fronts, half moones & greate Rams-homes let them all weare that would be th' countries scornes. She neither paints her face, nor curies her heare ^ nor like a Goldsmiths wife doth lithping thweare, nor is behounc'd w**^ lace, rebatos, piccadils w*^ monstrous bummes, nor yet w*"^ short light heeles nor in the brave & newe Hie Mulier cut who in their hose & dublets themselves put their dublets trust w*^ poynts, stilletto by their side why doe o'' females pricke & pranke them so but that th' are vendibles that all may knowe. ^ This word is blurred. 2 Vol. II, fos. 29 verso ff. 166 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS The author attacks the man who has bought knighthood : ^ When proude S' Hadlande, had his knighthood boughte himself a God, & not a man he thought being iust Squired, he was passing proude but nowe much more, being for a knight alow'd. it was my hap one tyme being on.ship-bourd that he came hither stragging like a Lorde I wore a hatcht sword. See, see nowe, (quoth he) that men that are but of meane degree weare silver on their swords w°^ lawe forbiddeth for unto knights it only that p[er]mitteth 'tis pity lawe's no better executed his hande on's sword he clapt, & so did I, but durst not drawe, ffie cowheard Hadland fie! My lande's as good as his was at the best I was myself a Gentleman at th' least nor was his father better nor yet he till w*^ his coyne he purchest his degree Men were accustomed that use to ryde upon their cloakes to weare on either syde a claspe of silver, 'twas a neate device but only 't would a hungery theife entice yet this brave Gallant bare a nobler mynde then Nobles did, who used but that kynde he had his fayre great claspes of yealowe gold the richest that for such er was sold one of o"" gay-greene-gallants was this knighte wearing a long-love-locke for his delighte this fonde fantasticke too, his cappe was greene a faire red feather in 't, as er was scene. 1 Vol. II, fos. 71 verso ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 167 The author travels to hell in order to see the fate of the popes : ^ Yet I confesse I had a greate desyre to see what Popes were bathing in Hell-fyre only I fear'd Garnet, would me transporte to viewe his Masters glorious shyning court nor other meanes could I devise by w''^ I might get thither, unles by some Witch so meting w**" the ghost of Faulx his mother I did not th' healpe implore of any other She [pro]mised me thither to transporte where I at pleasure might se all the sporte I did request her I might there remaine untill I wisht my self on earth againe that I from hurte might likewise be made free w''^ she most solemnly did sweare to me w*^ that a bough she rent (from off an oake) of Mistletoe, & th' wronge syde of my cloak She turned outward, & put 't on my backe the bough into my hand & bid me packe w*^ that an excellent rare chymicall-oyle she gat out of a viole w**" greate toile (for that the necke therof was longe & small and substance in it, was scarce none at all) made of the Honesty of an old whoare and th' seedes of Fearne, w''^ she did keep in store She dipt a branch of Eugh into the same nyne tymes she called Hecate by name 3 tymes she turn'd her round to her right hand as often to her left, then made a stande then 3 tymes more she turnd her to her right then sent me packing in the dead of th' night in un-knowne language to her seK she mumbled and I forthw[i]th like to a whirle-wynde, tumbled. 1 Vol. II, fol. 212. 168 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS The "Lady in Bed" tells the midwife and the visiting gossips of a former lover : ^ I being a pearle in amorous Putex eye he sued unto me for my deerest Jewell and w*'^ my presence oft enflam'd his fuell one while he wisht that he were made a Glove to kisse my handes, so to expresse his love, the Chaine of pearle that compassed my necks that so he might embrace it wQ^thout checke ' or to a precious Belt of beaten gold that so he might me in his armes enfold or if a creature having sense & motion then Trym my Dogge, attending w**^ devotion because he often lay upon my lappe, where sometyme I did play w*^ him by happe but were I sure (said he) t' have my desyre I would I were a Flea, still to lye by-her then should she carry me where-ere I wente one smocke should hold us both, & we not pente. The aged Saturn falls in love with the very youthful Lady May.^ He apes juvenility : for he began him self to decke up fyne he oyld his face, that it might brightly shine w*"*^ sweete p[er]]fumes he went bepowdered so that in the darke one might him easely knows he cald to have his lynnen washed white nowe in himseK he gan to take delighte he combd his heare, his beard he shorter cut in's f ayrest richest robes himself he put he causd his Taylor a newe sute to make & carefully bid him his patterne take 1 Vol. II, fos. 81 verso ff. ^ Vol. I, Part II, fos. 2 verso ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 169 his hoped ioye nowe maketh him to skippe no opportunity he letteth shppe w*^'s Love to bill, & with her haire to playe and then he wisheth for his monthe of Maye. he lookes that th' seame on's hose doth rightly stande he often stroakes his leggs up w**^ his hande his shooes he caused to be wyped blacke riche shooe-tye-roses, there he doth not lacke his garters frynged fayre w*"^ pearle & gold here is a Laddie, if that he were not old a goodly feather he in 's cappe did weare he stroakes his beard, & stricketh up his heare. Bacchus, disguised as a youth, comes to London, where he meets an old bawd. She tells him of a maid "Putena hight," who, because she deceived Mercury, was transformed into Puten or tobacco: And Hermes seing 's Love insatiate in the same place where she comitted late her foule offence, converted her straite waye into that Herbe, that never shall decaye. w*^^ by her name, he likewise cald Puten an herbe of most esteme amongst all men. As when she liv'd, she all men did bewitche that laye w*'^ her, her pleasure then was suche even so likewise, they w*^^^ the Herbe do take are still bewitcht, they can it not forsake but still insatiably the same they use whater we too much use, we doe abuse. But all men thus, her living, did desyre so doe they nowe, by hghting in the fyre the sacred Herbe & drawing in the smoke out of a pipe of silver ^ of claye, or oake. ^ This word is blotted. 170 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS this is the Herbe w°** I doe give to yo" wp^thin my garden there doth growe enough. But what's the vertue (quoth he to the Baude?) Of all Herbes growinge it deserves most laude (answered she then) — 'tis heavenly phisicke sure for it all kyndes of malladyes doth cure it heales y'' pocks, sir, and y"" running rheurae y 'stincking breath, it sweetly doth p[er]fume y'' head-ache, tooth-ache, & y"" runing eyes & quickly cures venerian malladies y'' goute, y"" dropsie, & y"" giddy braynes y' pissing blood & running of the veynes y"" swelling some saye that it will restore it makes yo" purge, both backward & before upward & downeward is the comon speech to say the troth, yo"^ neede no other leache who take this herbe Physicians helpe do scorne they live more healthfully then th' did beforne.^ Some Gallants take it on the pubhque stage other to drinke it, lay their cloathes to gage some spende as much in this same smoake a yeare as did their fathers in most needeful fyere yet many take it only but for fashion some to expell a mellancholy passion some to pull downe their fat & puft-up-bellye some to extracte their flegmaticke tough gellye. Cariers & Tapsters, Ostlers & Chamberlyns meeting at th' Ale-house, 'tis not worth two pinnes unlesse they make the roome of Puten smell sans it, their liquor tastes not half so well tis comon growne, & every one doth use-it there is noe 'state, nor sex that doth refuse-it. He askt her, if 't were pleasant in the taste? yea if w**^ some sweete oathes, it first be grac't, ^ This couplet is written in the margin. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 171 and 's made so pleasing being steept in liquor that th' weakest stomake cannot it abhor or by Gradinus ^ it is sweete & stronge it gives a pleasant farewell to the tongue. is 't Cane, or leafe, or ball, or puddinge, whether or Trynidado & of th' other neither? is it Barmudez or is it Virginia or els right Spanish, & the two Farina. or did it growe in Narbons neerest soyle? for they have made this poore, rich plant to toyle so many regions, south & west of this that our owne Nation knows not o''^ for this it is so bathd & steep't & stupified in liquors, strange, that I have it deny'de and sware it was not of the same that I had growing in my garden, when perdi ^ it was the very same, such forced power they doe infuze into it every hower. Some Petum call it, some La-royne-mere Tobacco, Petoun, and some Nicotiana. and some the soveraigne Herbe of Gods-divine some drinke it steeped in o"" whitest wyne that love not make their nostrils chymny tonnels nor take it out of pipes or smoaky funnels. Puten's the herbe w'^^ all men love amaine nowe in our language a Punck is Putain a whorish vertue still this herbe conteynes for from the same many derive great gaines no pleasure w[i]thout cost can nowe be had wenching & Puten maketh most men mad some call it Detrementum Veneris I rather thinke it Iritamentum is for that they most o' companyes frequent (flesh they will have in Ope-tyde, or in Lente) w'''^ take this Herbe.^ Mars. 2 jpar dieu. ^ Vol. I, Part I, fos. 39 ff. 172 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Neptune loved the fair nymph Thames. Because of her unfaithfulness he drove her lover to ''Cocytus shore" and, Thames he confyned w[i]thin straighter bounds to water Troynovants ^ rich pasture grounds who oftentymes as her affection moves doth followe him, telling him that she loves begging a pardon for that one offence who churlishly w*^ rageing sends her thence and w**^ his boysterous surges makes her flee to London-bridge, w*^^ is her sanctuarye. A Bridge that's built of stone that's hewed square of all the bridges I e're sawe most rare in it are twenty Arches as they saye through ech of w''^ the Tyde doth dayly playe ech arche conteynes in breadth full thirty foote 'twixt w''^ both Boates & bigger vessels shoote ech arche is twenty foote distant asonder threscore foote high, the easyer to goe under both sydes therof is housed all alonge w*^ Cellars and w*^ Shoppes mixed amonge that one a very streete the same would deeme were't not for prospects w"*^ theroft are seene it is a thousand foote in length at least and over Thames it standeth east and west.^ Thames is pursued by a rough monster, Pons, who woos her in vain : ^ he did resolve an other meanes to trye his auncient course of lawlesse villanye even beast-like force : when nought els will prevails well worth a meanes that never yet did faile Who would stande sueinge in an abiecte sorte to a disdainefuU lasse, that makes but sporte ^ London. 2 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 52 verso ff. 3 Vol. I, Part I, fos. 53 verso ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 173 of mournefuU elegies & sad lovers teares for puling suto''^, what lasse is 't that cares? the swaggering Ruffian that doth violence use the nycest Nymphe will never (scarce) refuse the cutting Shaver, that sweares wounds & blood was never of the chastest Nymphe withstood Thus did he harten on himself unto that impious acte he purposed to doe he therfore lying in wayte, on that same syde w°^ we call Southwarke, coming he her spide all faynte & weary w**^ a carelesse gate w*'^ she had like t 'have bought at deerest rate in 's boysterous armes he caught her coming by She shrieked out & w*''^ loude voice did crye Jove seeing this, turnd her into the streame w*^^ nowe is called Thames by her name and as Pons groveling there upon her laye he him transform'd also w[i]thout delaye made him the Bridge of w'''^ I nowe did speak thus Jove on him his anger iuste did wreake but make him swell in bignesse and in length adorninge it w*^ beautye & w*^ strength (Tyme hath much more increast & beautifide this glorious building nowe on every syde.) this being an acte of such immortal fame all bridges are cald Pontes by his name. About the Arches, Thames doth play bo-peeke w**^ any Troian or els Merry-Greeke She is a bounteous benefactor to the pore she maynteines many hundreds of the Oare ^ many are set on worke the thred to spin many to knit netts to catch fishes in many that live w*^ anghng in the same She kepeth many foules both wylde and tame. ^ boatman. 174 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS When as her silver sands do drye appeare in lowest eb, why then w*'^ merry cheere the schoole-boyes skippe & play upon the shore where erst they sawe no ground appeare before and when the tyde doth there returne againe the welkyn being cleere, skye void of rayne then there they wash & bath their tender lymbes some by the shore doe wade up to the chinnes others, their fayre white bodyes nymblye drives as if they swam to save their deere freinds lives seeminge t' outstrippe the waves in their swift course and in that pleasant art, shewe cuninge force. One turns him there & swyms upon his backe shewing the fish, an arte w^'* they doe lacke. Some pleasure take, to stande in bordering feild to heare Tamisis echoing voice to yeilde the fayrest Nymphes of all the Faiery-lande * doe often walke upon her pleasant sande who richly tyr'd in precious perle & gold w[i]thin the Hquid waves them selves infold to meete w*^*^ other Water-Nymphes abroade whilest on the waves, the Oares lay on loade. Sometyme the Queene ^ of that same Faiery lande doth unto Thames reache her fayrest hande that shee may kisse it ; & for her more grace when she removeth oft from place to place she will not goe w[i]thout her Thames deere who feasteth her & makes her royall cheere and proude she is, more then of ought besyde that Gloriana on her backe will ride. Some to their Ladies fayre, sweet musique make, that all the neighbouring Nymphs may it p[er3take w*^ Cornet, or w*^ Trumpet sounding shrill that Tritons self, amazed standeth still 1 England. 2 Elizabeth. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 175 by Neptunes syde. But others softly playe on stringed instruments that be so gaye on Cytterne, Gitterne, Viole & on Lute and some with courage givinge Drum & Flute. Her bancks are buildings of no meane esteeme being princely graced, by a resplendant queene. and all the greate Magnifiques of the lande w"** there in rankes & rowes together stande on either syde, both on the south & north her sumptuous buildings, sets her honor forth for richer Piles, Europe affourdeth not Nature & Tyme gave Thames this happy lot. Whitehall on North, on South stands Greenewich f ayre of princely seates the most frequented payre for their so pleasant & swete scituation their waUces are troade most of the English nation & for the esaye & facile accesse to such as thither pretende busynes. That proude ambitious stately Cardinall ^ did first foundation laye & built Whitehall but Greenewitch is the auncient seate of Kings & there was borne the Sainte that sweetliest singes * Greenewitch renouned for birth of Glorian heaven blest that kingdome, in that more then woman. Upon the North doth famous London stande by east of that cheife ffortresse of the lande the glorious Tower w°^ Juhus Caesar built O'relooking-Paules, & rich- wrought- Westmynster are Temples of cheife note w*^^ they prefer before the rest, for rareties of structure for largenes & for richest Arch'tecture That Greshams worthy worke, Royall Exchange Cheife place of bargaine & of newes most strange 1 Wolsey. 2 Elizabeth. 176 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS The Waterworkes & Conduits goodly fayre where longe in earth being pent, it taketh ayre. The many gorgeous houses of the Peeres w"^ still increase in number as the yeares. On the West syde, houses of Justice stand Westmynster hall, & then fast by at hand ^ th' Exchequer's there moe offices besyde. ^ The author attacks drunkenness: To Stratford-house, unto the Greene-goose-fayre a world of people one day did repayre both poore & riche, men likewise old & younge mixt w*'' the males, the females came among the season of the yeare as usually was parching hotte, the wether scorchinge-dry Hay-makers, Mowers, thither did repaire compeld by th' soultry-hot-fyre-breathing-ayre the extreame heate did cause an extreame thirst so that they dranke untill they almost burst the Townes provission of sweete liquor faild wherfore the Ale-wyves harts for greife so quailed it would have greivd one to heare them lament for that so sone their mippie-ale * was spent (quoth one t' another) I could well have vented thre tymes as much, thus they their want repented this day I have iust fifty shillinges got by Greene-goose-sauce & filhng short the pot. oh this Black-pot it was the best device that e're was found t' enrich us w*^^ a tryce I might as easely have got ten pound this day, our guestes they did come in so round for meate they care not they cry all for drinke. ^ This line except Westminster hall is crossed out. Above is written "wher ther are daily scand", as I decipher it. « Vol. I, Part I, fos. 52 ff. ^ Possibly mippie is the word "nappie" or "napping," meaning "rare." Cf. Campion, First Booke of Ayres, XX. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 177 After a long description of the drunken revel, of a fight in the inn, and of the red-nosed host and the wanton hostess, the author writes : Nowe fitly falles it to my taxing pen to shewe th' abuse of beastly drunken men and their Upholders : you guesse who I meane not only Alehouse-keepers, filthy & obscene though they the Fathers of all drunkards be but their Grandfathers, here in I'l be free and will ingeniously expresse my mynde though for the same of th' bad, ill will I fynde. But who are they? even Justices of Peace who t' have their wils, whole Towneships doe disease nay doe the Country w**^ such vermyne fill maintayning them in their lewde courses still who lycence p[er]sons lewde Alehousen kepe if in submisse wise they to them will crepe and give them worship & lowe courtesy at every word they speake: oh foppery! Who shalbe lycenced? He that at New-yeares-tyme can happely a dosen Mallard lyme and to a Justice for a present sende or he that doth his Chrismas diet mende w*^ Capons thre or fower, or Turkyes fat an eye of Phesants, whist noe more of that speake not of them nor yet of Partriches taken in th' nighte, for that the Justices should such offences punish by the lawe come they to them, they value 't not a strawe that other kepe the lawe they are to see but from observing it themselves are free He that my Lady first ripe Cherries sends or a fayre dish of Abricots comends unto her Lady-ship, He's an honest man he shalbe lycenced doe what yo" can Yea, but he keepes ill rule, disorders greate and sometymes helpes the Constables to beate 178 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS when they come hither to redresse abuses unlawful! Games in 's house he daily uses whiles Divine service some at Churche doe heare he then is selling of his ale & beere the cheife inhabitants of the Towne complaine of misdemeano'"®. But they speake in vaine He fees his Gierke, he makes his Hyndes good chere and filles their skyns oft w*'* his strongest beere they are the bane of this o"" Gomon wealth the houses where men are depriv'd of health give them their right name, th'are Mal-housen then the Nursery of all Pernicious-men the Rendez vouz and comon meeting place of godlesse p[er3sons, quite devoide of grace Theives, Murderers & villaines take delight to squilk ^ in such like houses night by night and pray you tell me, howe many be free but that they comon Bawdy-houses be? Prisons & Gaoiles they fill w*^ Malefactors against good lawes they ever are detracto'^ Spirituall Gourts, they w*^' offenders fill the World w*^ bastards: yet maintaine them still what villany but had 'ts begining there th'are Gounsell-housen of such as nought feare howe many thousands are there in tliis Isle that might be spar'd, that nothing doe but spoile younge-wanton-youths, & idler-aged-men • for every thousand would there were but ten but then these Justices would much complaine who w*''^ their Glarkes, share ever half the gaine for Lycence-makinge: they would greive much more that pocket all, therby to increase their store and leave their Glarkes iust nothing for their paynes they taking all what to their men remaynes. 1 A variant of "swill." SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 179 so nowe o"" drunkards tipling there will sit untill they have nor honesty nor wit till memory & sences quite doe faile till money's spent w'''^ after they bewaile till a monthes earnings if they poore men be be spent at th' Tap-house w*** intemperancie an howre or two, nay hah a day is small thre dayes together they for liquor call and drinke & spue & sleepe, then to 't againe the drunken Duch at first did this professe the soberer English thought of nothing lesse but w'are turned Duch, or worser far than they doth not this then the height of ill bewray? But oh strange thinge, 'tis us'd in private houses in Justice-butteries they doe drinke carouses will Justices them selves nowe sit & drinke untill they spue or doe the roome bestiiike? noe mervaile then drunkards unpunisht goe when they should punish them be drunkards too it fares w**^ them as w*^ Officials who lecherous p[er]sons to account oft cals yet nowe are worse then some that those Courts keepe nor better love w*^ a fyne lasse to sleepe Is not vyce punisht well the while I pray? I hope there's none of yo" that will say nay. To drinke carouses nowe 'tis Knight-like growne for they from other men would fayne be knowne since they can not in Garments or in Wealths they wilbe knowne by their carousing Healthes six or seaven healths nowe at a meale they have at a Knights table usually: that's brave.^ 1 Vol. II, fos. 236 ff. 180 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS The following is a picture of a young man ruined by gambling: Swynburnus was a lad that lov'd to play a word or two of him & then I'l leave gameing's a trade that many doth deceive especially those that a trade it make to pursing many men it makes betake so to the gallowes, for that's the conclusion it many thus doth bringe to sad confusion yet in it some exceedingly dehght & prosecute the same both day & nighte w*^ such an eager appetite I say as they were borne but only for to play wheras all knowe, gameinge's for recreation for seriouser busines to make preparation of o'' weake myndes, w*^^ if they alwaies stand like a bowe bente, growe crooked out of hande. To eate & drinke & play, man was not made but every man must exercise some trade I mean not base, mechanick, manuall all must in calling live both greate & small w*^ sweate on 's browes man was ordaind to live before by sin he did Jehovah greive. when of this universall fabrique he was a Lord absolute & from sin yet free o"" Gallants nowe though, thinke much otherwise & by that error doe their lives disguise of the w*'^ nombre was Swnyburnus one then he more pleasure took in 't never none but not for nought, he made of it greate gayne for he was ever in the getting veyne of his pCro^genito''^ I htle say they nowe are dead & lapped lye in clay his ancesto''^ left him noe meanes to live his wante of meanes him first to London drive where in a service he pickt up his crummes that at the Playhouse he tooke cheifest roomes SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 181 and then did take on him the gentleman he w*^ the best to ruffle it began then Ordinaries he begins frequent then unto gaming he his study bente it followed well his hande he got thereby ^ch ^th j^Qj-e eagernes made him it plie. en's play he liv'd, as many Gamesters doe who in apparrell doe as gallant goe as Landed-men & of revenues greate & keepe as good a diet in their meate that he grewe rich: d'ye wonder? why d'ye so; the chaunce of Gamesters's variable you knowe Dice-players lucke, oftner then th' wynde doth change in gamesters wealth certainte were strange. the tyde runs w*^ them this day, they get all the next they into many losses fall in thinges on earth noe stedfastnes we finde not in th' most stable, that should be mans mynde would any man then ever looke to see the gamesters happe alwayes alike to be that of all other is th' uncertainst trade one cast a Gent, next a Beggar made one day on this side th' nymble bones do run the next day so, that he is quite undon Examples more than this I neede nht showe there's scarcely no man but he it doth knowe But to Swnburnus to returne againe who still delighted in his gameing veyne a thousand pounds & half well nigh he got at one bare sitting such was then his lotte the thousand pounds he straite put out to Use thus his successe begot an other abuse w*^ some of th' rest he went & paid his debts and his estate he then in order sets the surplussage, a gameing stocke he made the next day freshlie goeing to his trade 182 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS but then a stronge tyde did against him run he lost all 's gaine, was utterly undon his whole estate he at that meeting lost & nigh five hundred pounds more, let him boast then for foure hundred pounds he gave his bond thus shewed he himself most foolish fonde to th' Taverne went, put Eatsbane in his wyne & w*** the same his lives thrid did untwine.^ The author attacks unscrupulous doctors: Neere unto Malverne Hilles a widdowe dwelt I would her father had bin surely gelt before he gat her: she a dogleache was I doe not well knowe howe it came to passe but she cur'd some, as blynde men hit the throwe 't was more by happe then by her arte I knowe one med'cyne used she for ech disease w**^ filthy oyntments, she did all men greaze that came unto her, whither 't were a wounde an Ague-soare, or legges that were unsounde whither a WoKe or Noli-me-tangere ache in the ioynts, or cureles Dissentorie Lues Veneria, w''^ some call the Poxe her Physicke all comes out a stinking boxe there w*** she sweates her Patients every one till some of them sende out their latest groane she poisons most, that she doth take in hande it is greate pitty none doe countermande her bold presumption: Much they are too blame Physicians suffring her, their arte to shame some that came to the Well their health to get she hath nigh kild by laying them in sweate such Empericks doe kill more then they cure oh dwelt I neere, I could it not endure her name agrees w*^ her filthy nature her forme tell wo that, she's of an ugly stature 1 Vol. II, fos. 116 verso ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 183 't is mother Beaste, a very beaste indeede would she were surely trust in hempen-weede Many such cheating Mates doe walks about such one was here, a foule, unhandsome Loute his name he sayes is Dee, a very knave he layes his Patients too, in a dry-bath can neither write, nor reade, nor cast a state yet he gives physicke, a most cooseninge Mate a lewde Imposter, he much mischeife workes he squilkes in corners & in odde holes lurkes. You Life-prolongers, whom true arte doth guide can yo" these life-deprivers thus abide y[ou]rselves to wronge, to harme the Comonwealth rewarde ye such w*'' hanging, as for stealth for they are worse then theives, they murderers are.^ A picture of a tavern quarrel : The next thinge that I p[ro]mised to tell it was of ffighters if I reckon well two of w"*" trade, lewde despate & bold met once together as I have bin told strangers they were & never met before both w''^ did quarrell for a paltry whore I meane a Curtizan a comon one ■ who for reward refused never none she was conducted by two Aplesquires unto a Taverne nere unto the Fryers both of the Ruffians doggd her all the way She being housed thus began the play. One knewe her by her name, whom most men knowe that did desyre it, I'le not name her though they through the Taverne pac'd w^^ wondrous haste untill they found the roome where she was plac't at tables upper ende alone she sate on either side she had her Pandor mate 1 Vol. II, fos. 98 verso ff. 184 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS who for a Gent her thither man'd thinking all thre to get well by the hande a pynte of wyne they were a drinking then when in at dores there came thes boysterous men. his supper there they had bespoke that nighte (quoth one of these that knewe her by the sight) come wench w**^ me (& called her by her name) to walke w**^ such, y'are very much too blame as dare not fight, come goe away w**^ me and who dares touch thee nowe, faine would I see he by the hand puld her from th' tables end stay (said the other) yet a while my freinde she's none of yCou]""^, I first came in at dore yes (quoth the first) S', but she is my whore & I this night intend w*'^ her to lye (oh monstrous height of damnd impietie howe dare men bragge & boast thus of their sin who knowes their lewdnes they care not a pin these are the Cursed brood, the Damned crue & Roaringe boyes, w*^^ noe foule vice eschewe) ech Coward Mastife for's soute bytch will fighte answered the other, & in thy despighte or I will have her, or thou shalt win her deere if th'art a Mettall-man let 't nowe appeare the Pandors both they shrunk away for feare the swaggering youth to fight did fast prepare whilest w*^ the noise the roome w*^ folke was fild saving mad blood w°^ should even there be spild in th' mydst of th' broyle the Gent he came & quietly he seized on his game these Ruffians yet their manhod vow'd to showe being brought downe into the roome belowe next day they both appoint to meete in feilde both being despate, ech did scorne to yeilde. On horsebacke mounted well, they mette at first ech being resolved there to do his worste SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 185 when first their pistols they discharged, straite w*^ their short swords to heawe ech other waite their traversing their ground, their wards, & blowes ech ffence-schoole-boy, he all of theni well knowes the ende was this, they did ech other kill thus of revenge they both had even their fiU.^ An attack on women who refuse to nurse their children: yet such a cursed custome nowe is got richest mens children have th' unhappiest lotte they must have Hedge-sparowes their younge to nurse I meane their Nurses : so they make a curse of that w*^*^ once a blessing seem'd to be 't was first allowed for necessetie when parents dyed, or had noe milke to give when weaknes hindred, or soore breasts did greive nowe scoundrels base, having small wealth acquired being brought a bed must have their Nurses hyred and shame not t'say, They'le knock them on the heads before they'le nurse, the children they have bred, unmotherly, unnaturaU beastes be they w"'^ doe not feare such cursed wordes to say mee seemes it is a thinge, unnaturaU w"^ is not practisd by th' brute animall, they nurse the younge ones w''*' themselves doe beare and sockld them w^'' more then mothers care shall brute beastes then growe mothers, mothers beastes? they then are guided by Priap's beheastes. 'tis not the case of Noblewomen nowe but even of Clownes wives, if th' have wealth enough, it seemes the riche are borne but for their pleasure wherin they take their fill above all measure the poorer sorte, must w*^ their children take unwearied paynes, & why? for monyes sake. Though this be bad, yet many doe much worse they put their children to lighte ones to nurse 1 Vol. II, fos. 115 verso ff. 186 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS have they proportion, neatnesse, comelynesse unto such Nurses they themselves adresse to th' inclynation of the mynde yo" looke not so w*^ their vices, yo" y[ou]'' children blot who doe not sucke it only from their Nurses but b' imitation, so p[ar3take their curses this is the cause y[ou3r heires degenerate ye noble bloods; for they them vitiate.^ The following is taken from the story of the Voluntarie Gent on the return trip from Cadiz: "that very night Corncaput he came by on th' other syde the streete, the Watch him spie a Gent he was, but money-lesse a beggarly one I must nedes confesse 't was then nigh Mid-night & they cald amaine he under th' penthouse went to shun the rayne and eke to hide him from their viperous eyes whilest th' Constable apace unto him cryes why who goes there, why stande, come hither S"^: one w*^ the sconce,^ thre browne bils ' made such stir w*^ crying stop, stop, followe the fellon stoute Wee'le search all nighte, but we will finde him out." * The author in the passage below tells of a certain Captain Swan: 'Mongst many guests at this so royall feaste ^ of one I'le tell yo" nowe a prety least a propper tall red bearded Gentleman his name I thinke was gallant Captaine Swan a sea captaine : captaines often sharke ^ being bold brave Brittons when they do want worke » Vol. II, fos. 191 fT. ■• Vol. II, fol. 153. ' lantern, street lamp. ^ Marriage of Princess Elizabeth. ' military weapon. ^ Shirk. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 187 a Captain in tyme of peace is like a Nun there living, where Religion is undon sometymes I see them walk in Paules in buffe w**^ great gold lace, all poynted, mary muffe; much like to Panderesses, when their game is over our captaines oft from Calais come to Dover. Captaine, sometyme it was a noble name but is nowe growne base, for they themselves defame by haunting Pickthach, White-fryers hot-houses to bill & bed w*^ those same prety Douses but like the Lapwing I cry from my neast I promised to tell yo" of a ieaste. The first course being served to the table (I tell no legend, nor no Poets fable) as thicke as they could stand there one by one voyde place on th' table, there was suerly none nay scarcely roome to lay their trenchers on yet many dishes other stood upon this Captain being amongst other set about myd-table, he began to fret to chaufe & sweate & could noe longer sit for he was taken w*^ a grievous fit not of an Ague, nor the Collick neither it may be though, it was a Lurdain-feaver he gap't & sweate, & wyp't his angry browe I know not wherfore sure: I pray do yo"? first soldier-like, 3 or 4 oathes he brake but besydes them, ner a wise word he spake, being on the benche syde, he ore th' table skipt would he not skip well if he had bin whipt he curse & swore & out of dores he got w"^ did astonish all. One said the pot he thought distempered so, his weaker braynes that th' sent of meate to get him gon constraines One said because an other Captain came that by a tricke had coosen'd him of 's dame 188 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS An other said because he had no knife he gat him gon: thus mens conceits wer rife nowe every one shew'd his opinion why th' captaine went away so w*^ a wenion. not one of all did hit the nayle on th' heade had he stay'd still he suerly had bin dead I know yo*^ longe to heare the cause of it I'le tell yo*^ straite so yo" will silent sit it was because a Pigge came to the table w'^'^ to abide by no meanes he was able was not the Swan worthy to be made a Goose that such a dynner for a pigge would loose. I thinke he was a Capten sine I of him good sir, I pray yo" what thinke yee? I knewe the hke by one that nould ^ endure to see a Goose come to the table sure some cannot brooke to se a Custarde there some of a Cheese doe ever stande in feare & I knowe one if she Tobacco see or smels the same, she swoones imediately the like of Roses I have heard some tell touch but the skyn & presently 'twill swell & growe to bUsters : the reason it is this twixt them & these ther's such antithesis that snakes in bed, or toades in drinke's not more against their natures then these nam'd before.^ J. M. shows the fickleness of patrons: Ambitious men clymbe up on ycie stayres to their proude seates & their high mounted chayres they creepe up slowely, hke the slymie snaile to leave their silvery slyme they doe not faile but when they are up mounted all aloft they come downe w*^ a vengeance hea[d]longe oft ^ would not. * Vol. II, fos. 256 ff. This passage recalls Shylock's dislike of vari- ous kinds of people. Cf. Merchant of Venice, Act IV, So. I. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 189 as huge Oakes fall, or Towers come tumbling downe so in disgrace ends all their high renowne money or els obscene & filthy life doth many raise, it is a thinge most rife. . , . fewe raise their fortunes soe unles they will ranke villaines prove, all knowe for he that serves one Noble or of Note in Court or Country & doth weare his coate there may he spende & waste his youthfull dales in swiUing, swearing, whoaring & in playes in pryde, in ryot, & all kynde of vyce for all doe thus except some fewe more wise, but one crosse word, the coate's puld o're their eares turn'd out of doares & no man for them cares thus seaven yeares service I have seene rewarded & for as litle many a man discarded the least fault that a servant can comit he oft is turned out of doares for it yea oftentymes when he is innocent & for noe fault at all, can once be shent. who thrives by service then? I'le tell yo" who he that the bacest offices will doe he that's a fawning flattering Siccophant p[er3haps his master will not let him wante he that wilbe a Pandor for his Master although sometyme he be him self his taster.^ K. The following excerpts are taken from a story of a jealous husband. The author dilates on the fact that a woman can always deceive a man. One lover comes disguised as a woman peddler, another as a fortune teller: ... he comes anon w*^ a greate packe of Pedlers-stuffe at 's backe and there aloude he asked what d'ye lacke 1 Vol. II, fos. 264 ff. 190 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS white Lawne or Cambrick, or els Holand fyne Scotish cloth or Callico w*^"^ beinge sUckt doth shine fyne Diaper or Damask I will sell for powers sweet I only beare the bell caules for y'^ head, silk riband for y' heare I want no kynde of dainty womens ware I'le pins, shewe yo" thimbles, nedles or boulace all w°^ & more he spake w**^ such a grace.^ . . . under beggers cloake he ^ hived all torne & patcht, much like the very same our old Roagues weare nowe for their greater fame He came I say unto Costerus ^ gate where Hke a Begger, he aloud did prate. A mayde past by, he cald her him unto as if he would some message to her doe (quoth he) I see thou wouldst thy fortune knowe come let me see thy hand, I will it showe, Thou hast a false dissembUng love I sweare for he hath set liis hart in place els wheare he's but a cupbord wooer me beleve he kist thee thrice, when last he tooke liis leave thou hadst an other w^*^ did love thee better and of his name Richard was the first letter w**^ this away went she & sent an other come on (said she) thou lovest Gregories brother a maried man, thou lovest him too late if thou hadst loved him first, th' hadst better fate. A man came then w*^ victuals in his hand a plough-iogge-swaine, one w*^ the sun all tand to whom he said if thou this mayde dost marry whom thou lovest well, er thou seaven yeare dost tarry 1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 19 verso ff. 2 The fortune teller, Mercury. ^ The husband. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 191 by her freinds death she shall enrich the so that thou shalt never nede to plough to goe. An other wench w*'^ that came running fast desired to know some secrets that were past Hearke in thine eare then, thou the ( ) didst play in yonder orchard on a Mary day w**^ flea in eare, away then went the mayde and to her mistres thus she (angry) said this man I warrant liim is a very knave he tels things past, to come, so Gods me save.' I'" The following is taken from a story of Arcadia. The heroine, we are told, was not . . . coye and nyce as in this age o"^ maydes are nowe of stately cariage proude in their gate, apparell, countenance (I speake not I, of Italy & France nor of gold-thirsty Spaine, but amongst us I say o*^ damsels are superbious) yea in their speeche & every kynde of way if garments be well shaped, riche, or gaye if beauty too, have somewhat dy'de their face then to be proude they hold it for a grace.^ This Amoretta had many lovers, among them a youth from England who was ardent in his wooing: Amongst this crue was one from Fayery come who amongst them had purchased a Roome a ioUy Shepeheard was he young & bold till for her love his liberty he sold none of th' Arcadians was so passionate as was this Stranger that was come of late he courts his Love w*^ pleasant Madrigals Odes Sonets, Elegies, Canzons, Pastorals 1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 22 verso ff. 2 Vol. II, fos. 22 verso ff. 192 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS w*^ such delightful ditties as might make chorlish Diogenes, some pleasure take. A Lookinge-glasse, he gat, & sente to her the superscription on it, Beauties Mirror the first fold opened did conteyne these words only her praises that first syde affourds. " My Love, like Luna, shineth wondrous brighte all creatures in the world ioye at her sighte She ads more glorie unto Women-kyne as the bright Moone to Starres, when she doth shyne." On the inmost fold of 's paper he had writte these verses following for his purpose fit "The perfect picture of that Goddes greate to-whome sweete Venus hath resign'd her seate here may You see, and only you alone without your presence she is sene of none if well you looke on this, here you may see an exacte Image of divine beautie" A Robin Red-breast he in 's chamber spied the w''^ to catch he all his skill applyed about his Love intending him to use as thus he sate in a sore heavy muse writing fewe lynes, about his necke him tyde thus speaking to him at that present tyde. "Thou kinge of birds art, yet a thrall to me many thus captive, should of right goe free thy durance is constreind, being held by mighte such durance I doe seeke & crave as righte I am her Captive & doe me submitte were shee my keeper, I'd be glad of it such thraldome as thou sufferest I desyre that soe her presence might me set on fyre. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 193 Nowe goe to her & shewe her these sad lynes of my captivity the woefull signes for thy poore M"^ : poore foole pleade thou well with lamentable sighs, his sad tale tell with bodies perrill, his soules passions showe that so she may the certaine truth on 't knowe. I doe not doubt but she will set thee free if soe, then bid her like wise pitty mee." ^ The author writes of the attack on Cadiz : Whilest o'^ Ehza of blest memory did in this kingdome hold the soveraigntie many heroicke spirits for th' comon good offred to venture even their deerest blood who such an expedition undertooke as a more brave was never writ in booke Essex & Howard both Liuetenants were & both were Admiralls, who soone prepare w*^ a small nomber their brave spirits to showe that all the world may Enghsh valour knowe when May began to deck the earth w*'^ flowers then 'gan these Nobles trym their watry bowers wherin t'embarke them, even a Royall Fleete w®^ for high spirits is a thinge most meete seaventene shippes Royall, thre the Lord Admirals these are indeede our Englands wooden wals th'United States brought fower & twenty saile a hundred & six other did not faile Men of Warre, Merchants, & Vitulars offer their service unto these bright starres The Navy Royall thus it did consist of seaven score ten saile, count them if yo" list wherin were shipt above ten thousand men w*^^ mette at Plymouth & put forth agen The first of June, a warninge peice discharg'd they weighed ancho"^, & their sailes enlarg'd 1 Vol. II, fos. 23 ff. 194 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS a prosperous wynde did bringe them to the place wheras they meante their valo'^ to uncase On June the twenty they did there arive where, many wisht them dead that were aUve the Cadizans I meane, in Cadiz that dwelt who quake for feare, er they o"^ power felt where twenty galUes, fower score & ten shippes lay (when we approched) within Cadiz Bay five of the w°^ Apostles were of Spaine ^ who doubtles praid that fyre from heaven might rayne upon o'^ ffleete: but none effecte it tooke but passing that, to themselves let them looke, two greate Galliasses, Frigats likewise thre thr Argosies, twenty of Biscanie the rest in nomber seaven & fifty saile were Merchants shippes whose courages did faile yet were of burden greate & richly loade but they forsooke the place where they aboade & shot into a dangerous narrowe Bay the w'''^ was full of Rocks, Sandes, Shelves (they say) o' shippes pursued them through these dangers greate and presentlie w*^ thondering shot them beate that the greate Phillip, Spaines great Admyrall could fight noe longer: then gave over all they fyred it & sought to swym to lande th' Apostle Thomas being next at hande he did the like the rest then of the fflete for their most safety, they did hold it meete in th' bay Port real, themselves t'run aground for fighting they must taken be or drownd. The Navy thus at sea disperst & beate Essex wh's troopes landed in all the heate leaving the sea-fight when he sawe them fly under the Blockhouse landing imediately, some Regiments to stoppe supphe from th' maine made to the Bridge w°^ easely they obteine 1 The five largest ships were named after Apostles. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 195 Essex meane while doth to the Towne advance where we were hindered by the Ordinance He caught his Coolers into Towne them cast then o're the Walle the English leaped fast happie was he first hold on them could lay then through the prease we quickly made o"^ way like hunted sheepe the Spaniards 'fore us run being all resolved they were quite undon. the streetes being narrowe much they did molest us in o'^ passage as we forward preast from houses toppes they sent such store of stones & from their Charnell-houses, showers of bones w*^ tyles & brick-batts, & such mauUng geere as might make any but the English feare. but we left not, but manly them pursued unto the Market place in blood imbrued where they gave in & yielded up the Towne & conquered caytives cast their weapons downe the fury of o' men was soone allayd when none resisted we from slaughter staid. Nowe see the cares of Gennerals truly Noble on paine of death they forbad all to trouble either the female sex or children small or the religious, but to spare them all. Ladies & Gentlewomen they did p[er]met in their best clothes, Jewels, & all thinges fitte to passe away unto the Porte St. Mary the Generals Pinnasses them all did carry whilst they them selves stood by the waters side to see noe wronge or harme should them betide that rich magnificent Bishop of Cusco w*^ all of sacred Orders being let goe and quite released w[i]thout ransome paying.^ This is followed by a description of the booty and ransom. 1 Vol. II, fos. 119 ff. 196 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS fifty two shippes in the late sea-fight beaten •w^^ ran aground, seeing o*^ ffleete them threaten two MiUions & a lialf of Ducats offered from further danger to be ransomed. Our Noble Gennerals would not once give eare but for the Merchants shippes w"^ then lay there w"^ when the Admirall did understand the Duke of Medina, he did then comand that they the whole ffleete then should sacrifice to angrie Vulcan, I sawe't w*^ myne eyes then the thicke cloudes of stincking f oggie smoake did many a Spaniard on the hatches choake Nowe the baseslaves like paddocks flewe in th' aire when th' fyre & powder kist (oh loving payre) when th' hideous roaring & compounding thonder bereaved the sayles of all future wonder when smoake flame stench, amasd, astonished even the spectato'^'^ that they were nigh deade. the sailers shrieked w*'^ such horrid noise as one of Hell had heard the fearefull voice and 'tis noe wonder th' cryed so hideously for they were posting to Hell speedily they in the suburbs nowe already weare had they not cause then t' roare & howle for feare. two of th' Apostles then were martyred thus for their service they full ill have sped since they such recompence their freinds doe give I'l be their enimie whiles I do live by that was done in the yeare 88 ^ & nowe in this so coweardly retraite unto the world it doth appeare most plaine that these same thondering Apostles of Spaine are fals Apostles & have not the power England t'convert, no not unto this hower.^ 1 Armada. ^ Vol. II, fos. 121 fif. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 197 The following is taken from the relation of the Gun- powder Plot. The author gives a list of those taking part in the treason: Catsby, (yo^ children sucking at the breast that hatefuU name abhor, dread, & detest nay let men tremble, shudder, quake for feare when they that wretched, odious name doe heare) Catsby (I say would I could quietly passe the naming him, whose shame is writ in brasse in marble to th' eternall memorie of f oUowinge ages & posteritie) . He, first devisd this proiecte so imane ^ w"*^ to the worlds ende all will ever bane and to this worst acte, the worst tyme of th' yeare he did solicite Wynter, 't doth appeare to ioyne w*^ him against all humane lawes some thinge to doe, for th' CathoUque Romane cause S"^ Edmond Baynam, (Prince of th' damned crue) unto the Pope was sente w**^ tydinges newe him to acquaints w*** this damnd powder treason w"^ did his heart glad, above sence or reason a fit Embassado'^ 'twixt Pluto & the Pope who for rewarde was worthy of a rope into th' Lowe Countries, Wynter was dispatcht to seeke a desperate Mate in Hell unmatcht hight Guydo Faulks, whom he did over bringe to acte this, more then a most divehsh tliinge this diveUsh facte, for to bewray to none (these blacke inhabitants of th' infernal lake doth th' holy sacrament the blacke band make of all their villany, like the Aquilians and Brutus sonnes, who shak't their bloody hands in a mans bowels whom they would sacrifice and dranke his blood, Vindicius sawe't with 's eyes 1 terrible, cruel. 198 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS when trayterously 'gainst Rome they did conspire by this example Papists are set on fyre when treason they, or murder doe intende they th' sacrament receive to self same ende. There 't was agreed by Powder to be don w"^ if it had, had us & ours undon in that blacke consultation they concluded (the Divell as the sixt, 'mongst them intruded) to undermyne the house of Parliamente a house was hyred neere for that intent and w*^ that Stygian, smoaky, sulpherous flame to blowe up all o'^ so longe purchast fame to blowe up Kinge, Queene, Prince, Nobillity Counsell, Divines, Judges, Knights, Gentery. Because Religion (said they) was suppressed Upon that House their fury should b'expressed Oh plotte of Furyes, treason sans paralell invented first by Pluto, Prince of Hell so cruell, brutish, divelish & inmane as will I hope give Papists here their bane and make them odious through the universe where ever any doth this facte rehearse: who knowes where this their hell-bred-rage had ended if they effected had what they intended for that one House alone had not sufficed their bloody rage, 't had many more comprised The Courte of Records, w*^ th' House of Parliament should at one instant bin to filters rent The Hall of Judgment, the Collegiate Churche must w*^ the rest bin taken in the lurche the sacred Monuments, w*^ the Abbey fajrre blowne up had bin into th' unguilty ayre.^ 1 Vol. II, fos. 200 ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 199 The following story, closely resembling in one of its plots Chaucer's Miller's Tale, is told in the spirit of satire against Roman Catholicism: About this tyme, in th' raigue of Harry th' eight whilst irreligious houses still were f raight It was even then that this same Prior I say having longe walkt in superstitions way one by the spirit prophesy inspired revealed this secrete to him undesyred but privily w*^ oath & p[ro]mise both from aU th' world to conceale't, though he were loath. " Not many monthes, shalbe expired more before the Heavens, such stormes on earth shall poure that all this Isle, shall in greate danger be of a Deucalion-flood in qualitie which all religious houses shall subverte wherof th' Inhabitants must share a parte for none exempte, they shalbe ruin'd aU from th' meanest Moncke, to th' most Pontificall Twenty-eight days (he said) the same should laste, er th' furye of that Flood should quite be paste." This hearing he to save one casts aboute and this as safest meanes he fyndeth out upon some steepe-high-peering-hill to make some Babell-frame, so stronge it should not shake ^th surging billowes, beating on the same of Harrowe-hill he did make choice by name upon whose utmost height, a house he built sparing nor tyme, nor labour, nor yet gilt ^ untill his sweating workmen finished his spire-like-building, liim to free from dread. w**" a bricke wall his house he hemmd in round w°^ cost him many a fayre shininge pound 1 gold. 200 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS as Superstition brought him in the coyne so did the same vice, it againe purloyne. Nowe they did hold, in those blynde moone-shine-dayes where in the cleere sun never shew'd his rayes Paradise was but sixteene cubits hie above the earth, where Enoch safe did lye (and yet mee thinks, when Noahs flood did reache full fifteene cubits (so the Worde doth teache) above the highest sweehnge mountaines toppes Enoch for f eare should have berayed his ... ^ having noe boate to swym as Bolton ^ had the w"*^ mighte make him so much more to drad had I bin in that Papists Paradice I should have drowning feard) oh foule device! had he not reason then to build it hie an hundred feete he'le have 't made certainly. To the Sub-prior he comits the charge of all his Fryers, lets them not run at large and like an Anchorite, or a Recluse he mewes up himself in 's walles most carefully of victuals he abundant store p[ro3vides himself so to preserve for aftertydes his Tower-toppe, was fairely roofed over that it did much more then the Spire-top cover there pullies were made fast at either ende on w*'^ a ffisher-boate he cause depende covered w**^ hatches, therby himself to free from the raynes outrage, if that neede should be his Masons wrought him in & left noe doare he meant to swym out, or stir out noe more the Boate to th' toppe, himself had haled up upon the hatches he did alwayes suppe w[i]thin the Boate he lay, there was his bed in the day tyme, on 's bookes he alwayes read ^ The word cannot be deciphered; it may be "slopyes." ^ The prior. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 201 for Holy Legends, & Saints Lives he loved (most fit for such as blynde devotion moved) by day the Prior spente his tyme belowe for that the ffloods growe by degrees yo" knowe and he might by degrees & steps ascende into his Pallace height & upy ende an hundred steppes high was his stairecase framed for making it so lowe he might be blamed. ^ in morne when he came downe on every sta3a"e he said his Credo, for an harty prayer those on his Beades Devoutly he told over as one that was of th' Pope, his God a lover w"'^ he told backe when he went up to bed ^th ^^g Maria w''^ w*^ zeale he sed Ora Pro Nobis he thumpt on his breast fearing 't be drownd on a dry hill, oh ieaste! This Revelation w"^ was shewed thus he tooke as sent from heaven propitious thinking as Noah, he againe should raise a future Nation, in 's declyninge dayes but that he wants a female & would fayne have gone out of his Hermitage againe had he not feared he might be prevented er his returne, therfore himself contented er els that freinds might possibly p[er]suade-him for w*^ stronge reasons many did disuade-him therfore he thought, better be sav'd alone for he might have a female made of stone as once Pigmahon had; but no we before this careful Prior provided bookes good store these bookes he was most careful to preserve therfore of Holy Church did much deserve. Legenda aurea, Gesta Romanorum Panopha, Stella Clericorum St Gregories Legende, Eckius Encheiridion Asotus workes of Supererogation 202 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Taxa poenitentiaria Apostolica Dionysius Areopagita.^ A meale-mouthed-Miller, not far off did dwell whose story mixed w*** the Priors He tell He for her goods an old wife married poore Croane sh'had better sped if she had tarried a widdowe still : when he her bagges had got he did protest for her he cared not nor w*^ a fa we ^-falne-gipsy would he live. thus w*^ vile taunts he did the poore soule greive ner came in bed w*^ her, nor plaid the p[ar]te of a kynde husband w"^ went nere her harte the reason was he had found out a Lasse whose skyn was white & smooth as looking-glasse a Captaines wife, a bony-bouncing-Girle who in this Gold-thumbs eyes was a faire p[ear]le Mounsieur the Miller, w*^ his mealy mouth lov'd her too well, to tell you the plaine truth her husband was a man of mycle yeares and yet the Miller, th' Captaines wife oft cheeres, that he more freely nowe might have his will he was their Miller & did grynde there still tole-free he often ground, tooke deeper tole (to the greate hazard of his pocky soule) when w*^ the M'''*^; of the house he mette th' Captaine oft absent, nothing their love did let ■* but coming home his old wife seemd to be an extreame puU-backe, to his iollitie then would he alwayes, rage & curse & sweare that noe man could her filthy fashions beare. The Captaine wounded by some dismall blowe nowe kept his bed : they to conclusion growe that night to have a bout : at his backe dore she was to enter, there to play the whore ^ This list of books continues for nearly twenty verses. * stained, dirty. * Mistress. ^ hinder. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 203 if that the Miller can get's wife to goe downe to the Mill, they had appointed soe some flight shot from the house the Mill was set his wife being there, nought could their purpose let unto the hill syde she did walke the while that so she might the too longe tyme beguile if he once whistled she was to come in the more securely to coniit their sin. Out of her house the old Lasse would not stir the Miller scarce could keepe his fist from her but chaufed & raild, wisht her in deepest hell in this mad rage he her this newes doth tell He'le hange himself before he'le leade that life w*"^ such an old-untoward-beldame-wife w*^ many oathes his former speech he bound that he would hange him self that night from ground so shall I be at once (said he) cleane rid of such a plague, as ner by man was bid a foule-mishapen, old, crowe-trodden queane drivehng at mouth, nose dropping, most obsceene one were as good in hell it self abide as to lye by such a red-herrings syde smoake dry'd like those that Lymbo doth conteine and in this rage, away he wente amaine. Poore cuckqueane she more reason had by far w*** him for 's whoare rather to chide & iar. but this we fynde oft by experience true the guilty make the guiltlesse most to rue condemning them, themselves condemnd should be as in this patterne, yo*^ may plainly see. Candles were hghted, th' evening darke did growe so as one man could not an other knowe when as they met w[i]]thout a candles light as it was darke, so 't was a wyndy nighte the blustering wynde, a storme of rayne did raise a while this Beldam strucke w**^ terro'^ prayes 204 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS prayes & cryes out, howles, makes a mournfuU noise this was the sauce she had w*^ hoped ioyes w"*^ nerthelesse she never did p[ar]take th' Miller a begger, she a man did make of rumpe-wood-widdowes, she's a patterne iust though ner so old, yet younge lads have they must who for the most p[ar]t, them doe thus rewards getting their gold they quickly them discarde. and worthily, what reason can they give when they for yeares can scarce thre somers hve that they a boy of 18 yeares will wed & bringe them to their ycie chilling bed? if lust be not the cause, the divell's then but thus th'are fitted though by most younge men. The noise she made, the neighboures quickly heard therfore came ruiiing to her, being afeard her husband wronged her. In they rushing came Walter (quoth she) is gon (so was his name Flood his sir name), in a greate rage from me vowinge to hange himself imediatelie. The neighboures to his father bare the newes who w*^ all's houshold straite way liim pursues w*^ all the neighboures dwelling there about w*^ Lynkes ^ & Lanthornes in a confused route w*** Torches, fyrebrands over all the hill his freinds crying, Walter, Water, Water still his neighboures likewise they as fast did call Flood, Flood, Flood, Water, Water, Flood, even all thus round about the hill all night they run as if Bi-maters Orgies had bin don th'old Croane his wife, cry'd out w**^ mournfull noise Wynde, rayne, Flood, Water, w*^ a sad horse voyce Nowe in the depths of night, the Prior waked hearing them cry, his hart for horro"^ quaked 1 A torch usually made of pitch. Cf. Shakspere, 1 Henry IV, Act in. So. 3, 1. 48. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 205 some crying Flood, others did Water cry- about the hill he many lights did spie and he imagined they clymb'd the hill least that the water should their deere lives spill, his wife, his father, mother & his brother did all yell out & shrike one to another other did Lure ^ & hallowe wanting light some fell in ditches in the darke of nighte & pittifuUy cryd, some helpe to have in ponds some cry, my life, my life, oh save he heard them talke of drowninge all aboute the fearfuU yelling, howhnge of the route the wynde blew loude & it apace did rayne The Prior ready was to dye w*^ paine all the day longe, he still the flood did dread & all night longe he drowning feard in 's bed he dream'd of nothing but of rayne & water nowe all of them about the hill doe clater flood, rayne, wynde, water, peoples fearfull cryes all w''^ augment his former iealousies. That, his Prediction was nowe to expire iust at this tyme, as it was told the Prior thus in a maze, w*^ a much troubled mynde (for sup[er3stition ever is so blynde that they are troubled more then there is cause who — seming wisest are as wyse as dawes) a knife in ech hand he takes instantly and cut both cords the w'^'^ his boate hunge by so w*^ a sersarery ^ downe he came calling aloude upon St Beckets name bruised w*^'s fall & wounded w**^ one knife he thus did finish 's superstitious life. ^ to call. A lure was a name for a trumpet. ^ certainty. 206 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS During this hurly-burly and disquiet in a close cave, the Miller lay close by-it close lay the Miller to his Paramore a gallant wenche.^ A certain Jack Gullion has been imprisoned for drunken- ness by his king : He ^ sent him to the Gaoile awhile to kepe that he might setle's braines by rest & sleeps but when as Gullion to the prison came and heard that he should suffer for the same. Nay then (said he) before I dye, I'le drinke w*^ any man who best himself doth thinke even for an hundred pound of shininge gold and here it is (on table he it told.) Loe this the preparation for his soule he thus doth praye, nowe when the bell doth tole even so o"^ prisoners when in gaoile they lye they practise there all kynde of villany although their conscience doth convicte them plaine that they have iustly merited Hell-payne though nowe the horro'^^ of their conscience might them (being in durance) grievously affright because they nowe must unto reckoninge come not of their lewdnesse all, but of that same w''^ will endanger their (most wicked) life and them expose unto the Hangemans knife they are as blithe & frolicke as before Such as their hands embued in bloody gore nay when they are condemned by the Lawe to dye the death, they not regarde't a strawe. ^ Vol. II, fos. 52 ff. The author tells the reader that the prophecy came true concerning the destruction of all religious houses and orders by the laws of suppression of Henry VIII. * The German ruler. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWS METAMORPHOSIS 207 Once we must dye, therfore let's merry be when life doth ende, adieu felicity (they say) let's drinke o"" fill while we be here for Hell is dry, then there is no good beere A heavy case, men should so desp^er^ate be but thus it is w*^ such we dayly see. Of druiikenesse a little let's discusse this vice died not w**^ those eight drunkards ^ thus but since hath spred itself throug Germany and nowe in England it growes fruitfully a Hydra headed monster it appeares encreasing more & more by tracte of yeares their fearefull end doth not make drunkards feare for still they tipple & will not forbeare. Men sometyme dranke, only to coole their thirst but nowe untill they doe even almost burst o"^ gallant Tospots nowe do use to drinke half pots & pots, untill they downe do sinke nay out of measure, they by measure swill by th' yard & ell, that they may have their fill the next device wilbe to drinke by th' rod for nowe o"^ drunkards feare nor man nor god then hke to Gullion they'le whole hogshedes quaffe right Swinish fashion, as they drinke their draffe Lawes have ben made to curb such heretofore & by these lynes I doe those Powers implore to whom redresse of such foule vice belonges to 'mende th'amisse & right these greivous wrongs. Of drunkennesse, what nede I more to say that it is divehsh none can well denay bad for the purse, the body, & the mynde and yet the worst of all is still behinde bad for the soule too would yo" have me prove-it it utterly undoeth all that love-it ^ Gullion and his companions in jail. 208 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS the purse is wasted by th' excesive use the next fild w*^ disease by that abuse the mynde forgetful!, dull, & melancholly the soule is damnd to Hell, for that mad folly. Thre Outs o"^ swaggering Gallants do carouse when as they meete in swynish-tipling-house first all the drink the w''^ the pot doth hold next all the mony they in purse have told & thirdly all the wit out of their head that oft a watry ditch, serves for their bed.^ The following quotations continue a series of prison pictures of which the story of Gullion was the first: Xadleus he in prison beinge pent in tyme of actinge tliis strange accident for that in divehsh witchcraft he had skill wherby he had don many a greivous ill he made a scoffe at what the God had don saying himself would doe as much anon so that the company came crowdinge in and did attende when Xadley would begin Thither by chance a Tanner came to see what pleasant sport should in the prison be behinde his backe, a Butte of leather hanged w**^ Gullion he the pitcher lately banged. He bid him lay his leather on the table (quoth he) wilt give it me if I am able to make it come to me from th' other ende and never touch it? He did condiscende. The leather straite came sliding all alonge to th' admiration of the wonderinge thronge. He called then: ffill me a glasse of beere the Tapster fild a Venice glasse most clere into his hande he quickly did it take but let it fall, it all in peices brake he causd his boy, the peices up to gather 1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 36 ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 209 that he might make it whole, so much the rather he blowes upon them & they did conioyne thus made he it both whole againe & fyne. To kill one that's alive, ech one can doe yet for a myracle the same doth goe but I will unto painted men give life and make them fighte, till death doe end their strife w**^ that he tooke two Gardes out of the packe only they two did of the payre ^ lacke the rest he nymbly to the seeling cast where every one of them did sticke full faste. those other two w'^^ he in hande did save the one of Clubs, the other of Harts the Knave at ech ende of the table, one he laide they start upright, that all men were dismaide and there they fought in earnest & in scorne till one an other had in peices torne. There was a villain that was laid in there a most abhorred bloody murderer an other that his brother poisoned his father being then but newly dead, because the elder did enioye the lands and this was left to live upon his hands that day wherin his father was inter'd he ravisht's sister for he nothing feard nor angry Gods, nor iustice doeing men if 't were to doe, he would it doe again the one a reeper ^ was, all clad in greene as rancke a Ruffian as was ever seene these two were most blasphemous swearing knaves and so in prison ech himself behaves the first like one starke mad would often sweare yea greatest Gods name, all in peices teare ^ pack or deck of cards. ^ This may mean "keeper." The word is not clear. 210 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS they st[r]ivinge both, w*^ strange oathes all t'excede and their Redemer often made to bleede w*^ wounds & nayles, & other oathes besyde as, harte, & foote, & precious bleeding side w*^ blood, & life, & death & oathes more strange yea sacred powers, w**^ thinges p[ro]]fane they range oh strange & yet coinon impiety that they most vile thinges thus will deifie. It's coiiion growne to sweare by faith & troth for men account the same to be no oath swearinge is counted nowe to be noe sin oh monstrous age, what tymes doe we live in! t'is Gentleman-like both to curse & sweare and boldy too w[i]thout or dread or feare 'tis the best grace a gentleman can use in his discourse, who will the same refuse? Th'are clownes & dolts, that tell a tale sans swearing disgracefuU is their speeche, if oathes be sparinge but those that sweare w*^ greatest grace of all I say that they have iust noe grace at all they by their faith doe sweare & by their troth untill indede they neither have of both, when they by God sweare, they their bellyes meane. for other God they scarcely care a beane he that sweares not, they count him not a man but vahant, noble, that do curse & ban a man of courage, spirit, brave, & stoute but he a Milksop that speakes oathes w[i]thout. divines them selves that others should reprove dare rap out oathes, & sweare they swearing love such fellowes are more fit for plough & cart then take degree & be made M"^ of Arte.^ 1 Vol. I, Part n, fos. 37 verso ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 211 Hermes tells Apollo of Rome: " Rome gnawes the flesh, from th' hands of every man & hates all those of whom she nought get can. Rome is the Divels schoole, the Mynte of Treason where the most learned live, quite voide of reason their best learning's their erro"^^ to defende for this they study & noe other ende. a cage of Uncleane Birds, a filthy Stewes where th' Holyest, his hand in blood inbrues Rome is a Nursery of Toades & spiders of Serpents, Adders & of cursed Vipers w°^ doe infecte, w'''^ stinge, & murder all those lands, & people, they converse w[i]thall a denne of Serpents & of Dragons fell a poysonous sty as venomous as Hell. Rome is a Cabin full of cursed Traitors a swarme of such men as for blood are wayters What monstrous villany hath ben attempted or els comitted, but 't was there invented? And Aretyne a booke of Bawdery writ w**^ many pictures w^"^ belong'd to it where many severall wayes he teacheth howe one may p[er]forme that acte, w**^ shame enough. that it is true the Stationers can teU I've seene the pictures publiquely to sell. In publique schooles they sticke not to dispute (it were more fitter they were dumbe and mute) wluther Sodomy, or matrymonie's best that w'^'^ ech honest harte doth most detest they give 't a handsome name to blynde the eye caUing it thus, Clementine Venery. . The Church of Rome, may well be catholique because she eates up lesse as doth a Pike 212 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS eate smaller fishe, for soe doth she devours all smaller Churches that are in her power. Or Catholique, may well thus much betoken the Common Church, in private be it spoken for She doth many Common Queanes maintaine & Common Boyes : here Holynes doth raigne Pope Clement prov'd it by authority that women ought be comon & shew'd why. Hence yo" Laye-people, hence all yo" profane medle not yo" w*^ this o holy function neither o'^ orders, nor o*^ sacred unction nor come yo" neere o' Lemans touch them not y[ou]r only breath their chastetyes will blotte goe to the Common Stewes, for that's appointed for all not beinge w*^ sacred oyle annoynted. to touch a Leman that 'longes to a Priest it is the greatest syn that er'e you wist. Rare questions there by Doctors are propounded M"^^ of Arte, & Bachelours well grounded these & such like not one of them is vaine whether that God, can make a whore, againe a Virgine pure? And whether Christ could take a female creatures, or a womans shape? if he could turne himself into the forme that is of damned Divels & of feindes worne? if he an Asses nature could take on him." ^ " The Pope yo" knowe kepes many JubiUes amongst his other Jewish cerimonies there, I myself was present at the last when all the busynes of that daye was past all housen there were fild so full of guests that one of them an other much molests for I that had my chamber private kepte thre weekes & more, & there securely slepte 1 Vol. I, Part n, fos. 72 ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 213 was then disturbed w*^ a chamber-mate by gate & speeche, he seemd a man of state, at supper he his glasse did kepe alone he never layde his fingers meate upon but w*^ his silver carvinge forke he slaid-it night cald to bed, & he good-man obeid-it because I knewe not well my chamber-fellowe my purse I layde, close underneath my pillowe: ... at length I slept foxe-slepe & often w*^ one eye I up did peepe to see what this brave gallant went about first did I see him five on's teeth pull out w*=^ in a boxe he laid full daintely then nexte he pulled out his blynde left eye then puld he off his fayre enameld Nose w'''^ from true flesh could noe mans eyes disclose it to the flesh conioyned was so well it shew'd the Artists cunning did excell." ^ " Yo" first must knowe this lande ^ in riches flowes where many a man hath much more then he knowes in gay apparrell they doe much dehghte to goe neat clothed is a seemely sighte but to exceede & passe their owen degree to take't at best, it is but foolerye. Many fantastic Asses I have seene ^oh ^th ^Yy^^ ^-gg^ YiSivQ fouly tainted bene but one amongst the rest that did excell whose story nowe I briefly meane to tell so sone as ever any fashion changed into that shape himself he forthw**^ ranged a most fantasticke shallowe-brayned-Gull as ever ware a hatte of Spanish- wooll. 1 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 73 verso ff. ' Italy. 214 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS Nowe w**^ a swaggering Switzers hose he went then in a French round hose, that his . . . ^ pent then w*^ a Tankerd-hose, that's greate at waste ty'de above knee, the upp ende bumbast nowe w*"^ a paire of greate longe paired hose drawne out w*^ silke he wallowingly goes then w*^ a full cloth hose as bigge at knee as 'tis above, & thus continewallye he changeth forme in dublet, hatte, & shoes in cloake, in bande, & he doth dayly choose as a newe suite, so a newe colour too ech day he doth in different colours goe. nowe like a Rain-bowe, some of every coloure then like a Punck in white, even like his mother, then like a Mourner he's all clad in blacke nought white, but bande & face: when as alacke blacke should betoken of a well-staied-head or of bemoaninge some (deere loved) dead when I thus sawe him given intollerably to foUowe every fashion newe so variably (if he but one sawe, a newe fashion weare to be the seconde he would straite prepare." ^ The following selections are taken from a story connected with the attack on Cadiz. A Spanish mother with one son has prevented his marriage by attacking the virtue of women. Later, when her son is slain in the English attack, she tells of the sorrows of a mother: " My son, my son, oh take heede howe yo" wive Wives are th' p[er]nitionst ^ creatures nowe alive the rankst dissemblers that er breathd this ayre but most inchanting Witches if th'are fayre ^ The word is blurred; it looks like "breche." 2 Vol. I, Part II, fos. 77 verso ff. ^ pertiicious. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 215 beleve them not, what ever they yo" tell th'are hoUowe harted as th' vast caves of Hell th'are like Hyenas seming most to mourne to wanton laughter presently they turne their vertues they in folio doe expresse but all their vices labo" to represse they'le hide their faults, yo" never shall them knowe but all their vertues they'le to all men showe if they be amorous enclyned to love then most inconstant changelinge they will prove if full of children costly in their fare if barren most insatiate then they are if they be younge to wantonesse inclynde if mydle ag'd, yo"" shall them subtile fynde if old why then w*^ covetize affected iealous, complayning that they are neglected if wise then proude & much conceited too if foolish she's thy shame wher er she goe if she be rich, she wilbe insolent if poore (p[er]haps) w*^ lesser state content if p[er]sonable, comely, then she's coy if homely, sluttish, her sight doth anoy if well descended, she'le be bravely kept all have their vices noe one state except be ruld by me my son & good heede take what kynde of creature thou thy wife dost make more easeher thou shalt a thousand fynde lewde & p[er]verse then one of vertuous mynde what man so ever ventures on that life may for his crosse take up a crooked wife I will not say but thou by chance mayst hit on such a one as may be for thee fit. Into a Barrell can one put his arme naked & bare (& yet be free from harme) fild full of Snakes & stinging Adders eke can any one I say that so doth seeke 216 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS fynde out one Ele that is put them among in mydst of such a most contagious thronge? If he by chance upon the Ele should light can he the Snakes enchant that they not bite? Is not an Eles tayle, a most sUppery hold? whence comes the proverbe that's as true as old. Y'are even as good hold a ivette Ele by the tayle as to repose a trust in Women fraile. But say one could out of the Barrell get the Ele & that the Snakes stinges did not let a Snakish nature will the Ele possesse by lying amongst them she can doe no lesse though their tayles stinge not, yet beware their tongues the venom'st member that to them belonges.^ After her son's death the mother exclaims: " To thousand paynes we women are exposd ^th gpgifgg ^ feares we restlestly are tosd when we doe marry we o"^ hopes do misse being cloy'd w*^ cares, when we expected blisse Yea the first night that we to bed doe goe doe we not then cry out for greife & woe noe other creature feeles like paynes as we in the deere losse of o'^ virginitie and w*''^ is worse they w''^ doe love us most doe payne us thus & in it glorying boast this payne o're past, when we conceive w**^ childe howe carefuU are we, lest the same be spoild and all the while we doe that burthen beare we never are dischargd of greife & feare w*^ evill stomacks troubled evermore longing for meates we never lov'd before for such oft tymes as can noe where be had faynting & swooning often, that's as bad. ' Vol. II, fos. 123 verso ff. SELECTIONS FROM THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS 217 longe paines in nursing children when th'are borne but many wantons do that labor scorne the loathsome noysomnes we doe indure and waywardnes that nurse them I am sure the want of sleepe w**^ cryinge all the night the greivous paines when they o"^ teats doe bite o"^ breasts obnoxious unto agues oft w°^ makes us stoope although we looke aloft still are o'^ feares increast, one while we dread to overlay them as we lye in bed then fyre & water in next place we feare to keepe them from it, tis o"^ speciall care when they begin to clymbe we feare their falles if out of sight we seeke them w*^ loude calles one while we feare their bones be out of ioynt w*'^ bone-set-salves we doe the places oynt nay infinite are th' severall accidents that doe befall them, some w*^ dyre events. This charge once past, then there comes next in place good education w"^ may give them grace feare lest they should us by bad courses greive or by their lewdnes us of ioy deprive their infancie hke to bruite beasts they spende whose waywardnes doe tetchie Nurses tende being past the cradle all to sport enclynde w**^ Apish toyes they please their wanton mynde a horse, a cowe, or like beast as all men knowe in 4 or 5 yeares to p[er3fection growe till twice seaven yeares, th'are children for the rod themselves not knowing, fearing nor man nor God, But growe they once to be Haber-de-Hoyes that is the state betwene a Mans & Boyes then comes the dangeroust tyme of all their life (unless they happily finde a vertuous wife) then riot, lust, quaffing, & swaggering quarreling, contending, & unthrifty spending 218 THE NEWE METAMORPHOSIS our children marrying we good portions give by meanes wheroft o' selves oft poorely live when old age comes, we then twice children are & like Anotomies our bones growe bare a sheete at death we cary to o'^ grave & this is all the pleasure that we have." ^ 1 Vol. II, fos. 126 ff. INDEX Alden, R. M., 19 n. 2. Aldis, H. G., 127. Ariosto, Ludovico, 29, 45, 46, 51, 124. Arnold, Matthew, 134. Baskerville, C. R., 120 n. 1. Beaumont, Francis, 22 n. 3, 28 n. 6, 113. Brink, B., ten, 36 n. 1, 38 n. 3. BuUen, A. H., his references to the manuscript, 68; 114n. 2, 133. Capgrave, John, 43. Chaucer, Geoffrey, use of couplet, 20; influence on author, 36 ff.; 36 n. 4, 6, 39, 42, 44, 45, 55, 62, 63. Cutwood, Thomas, 28 n. 4. Davies, sir John, 28 n. 4. Devereux, W. B., 87 n. 4. Donne, John, 19, his satirical verse, 23; 60, 116, 136. Drayton, Michael, 20, 20 n. 3, 54 n. 1, 62, 155. Essex, Robert Devereux, earl of, 29, 54, 73; J. M.'s praise of, 87 ff.; 109, 115, 135, 136, 139, 143, 151, 156. Fabliaux, 34; use of, 36 ff.; 38, 39, 40, 42, 43, 156. Fenton, Geoffrey, 27. Fleay, F. G., 128, 129, 131 n. 5, 132 n. 1, 154. Fletcher, John, 22 n. 3, 113. Foxe, John, 45. Gifford, WilUam, his criticism of Marston, 112 ff. Greene, Robert, 56, 107, 159. Grosart, Rev. Alexander, his refer- ences to the manuscript, 67 1?.; 114 n. 3, 115 notes, 122 n. 3, 131 n. 4, 132 n. 2, 133, 137 n. 2, 144, 150 n. 4. Guilpin, Edward, 28 n. 4, 130. Hall, Joseph, 16 n. 3, 20, 23, 28 n. 4, 60, 130 n. 2. HalUwell-PhiUipps, J. O., connec- tion with the manuscript, 67; 68, 110, 133. Harrington, sir John, 29, 124, 135. Harte, William, 107, 126, 127 n. 1. Haslewood, Joseph, 1; his con- nections with the manuscript, 65 ff.; 110. Howard, Charles, earl of Notting- ham, 54, 73, 115, 136. Jewell, John, 44, 44 n. 9. Jonson, Ben, 63; 112 n. 5; quarrel with Marston, 114 ff.; 119 ff., 130, 155 n. 1. Lamb, Charles, 113. Lodge, Thomas, 28. Marie of France, 34 n. 1. Markham, C. R., 83 n. 2, 122 n. 4, 134 n. 2, 135, 136 n. 1. Markham, Francis, 122, 124 ff., 134 n. 2, 140 n. 3. Markham, sir Griffin 135, 152, 156. Markham, Jervase, Thyrsis and Daphne, 28; 65, 66, 69, 83 n. 1, 90 n. 5, 91, 92, 93 n. 5, 99 n. 1, 107, 108; his family, 122 ff.; his personality, 126 ff.; his works, 127 ff., 130; the use of the letter J in Jervase, 131 fl.; the title gent., 132 ff.; the Frenche name; 133 ff.; career as a soldier, 134 ff.; connections with the Puritans, 137 ff.; Markham and Essex, 139 ff.; love of country- Hfe, 140 ff.; wide reading, 219 220 INDEX 141 ff.; Markham and Cam- bridge, 143; as a poet, 143 ff.; affection for his father, 145 ff.; his home, 146; his style, 146 ff.; evidence summed up, 148 ff.; his plagiarism, 149; his hand- writing, 150 ff . ; hatred of Spain, 151 ff.; hatred of Papacy, 152; the theater, 153; references to contemporaries, 153 ff.; reason for not publishing the manu- script, 155 ff.; conclusion, 158 ff. Marlowe, Christopher, 28, 28 n. 4, 62, 112. Marston, John, 1, 16 n. 3; his verse, 23; 24, 28, 60, 65, 66, 67, 69, 83 n. 4, 105, 108; as author of the manuscript, 110 ff.; Miss Toulmin-Smith's objections to him as the author, 110 ff.; his real merit, 111 ff.; a gentleman by title, 114; name not French, 115; as a soldier, 115 ff.; dislike of the Puritans, 117 ff.; addi- tional reasons why he could not be J. M., 118 ff.; his style, 119 ff.; 122, 130, 155 n. 2. Martin, James, 65, 108 ff.; as the author, 109. Mason, John, 65, 66, 108; as the author, 109. Massinger, Philip, 113. Matilda, 18, 19. Microcynicon by T. M., 16 n. 3. Middleton, Thomas, 53 n. 2, 113. Milles, Thomas, 6, 43. MinshuU, Geffray, 109 n. 2. OrteUus, van, 43. Ovid, Publius Ovidus Naso, 17, 29; tales borrowed from, 32 ff.; 33 n. 2, 35 n. 2, 39, 43, 60, 91, 156. Painter, William, 27. Pastoral, the use of, 40. Pettie, George, 27, 32 n. 6. Piers Plowman, 24. Pitcairn, Robert, 41 n. 7. Pliny, the elder, 43. Plutarch, 43, 142. Purchas, Samuel, 6, 43, 61. Ralegh, sir Walter, 6, 44, 54, 73, 75 n. 2, 136, 152. Rich, Barnabe, 27. Roberts, James, A banishment of Cupid, 51 n. 3. Shakspere, William, 22 n. 2; Venus and Adonis, 28, 59 n. 1, 61, 84 n. 2, 111, 112, 113, 119 ff., 123 n. 4, 154. Sidney, sir Philip, 62, 154, 155 n. 1. Skelton, John, 24. Speed, John, 44, 44 n. 5, 61. Spenser, Edmund, 4 n. 8; use of couplet, 20; 39 ff., 42, 45, 46, 61 ff., 63, 76 n., 78 n. 4, 154. Stapleton, Thomas, 44, 44 n. 7. Stowe, John, 43, 61. Suckhffe, Matthew, 44, 44 n. 8. Surrey, Henry Howard, earl of, 62. Theater, reference to the, 63 ff., 129, 153. Thorndike, A. H., 121 n. 1. Toulmin -Smith, Lucy, 1 n. 2, 5 n. 2, 61 n. 1; references to manuscript, 68 ff., 109 n. 1; reasons why not assigned to Marston, 110 ff., 149. Tourneur, Cyril, 29, 105, 149. Vere, sir Francis, 54, 73, 83, 136, 156. Waldron, F. G., 3 n. 1, 34 n. 4; connection with the manuscript, 65, 66, 108, 109, 110, 111 n. 4. Warton, Thomas, 20 n. 1, 121, 132 n. 1. Webster, John, 113. 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